#‘snap why’ because i kept trying to draw in bed and i got so cozy

[xxplastic-cubexx]

HOW LONG DID THAT TAKE FOR YOU TO COLOR?????

Dont speak of time to me i took three naps today so who knows….

[thewildomega]

Broken but not Shattered Ch.2

That weekend had not gone as you hoped, not even close. Instead of enjoying a trip to Hogsmead with Severus you had spent it alone. By the time Monday came around again you didn't even have anything to look forward to. While you had gotten all your work done in Transfiguration and Herbology the past weekend as you made your way down to the dungeons for potions you felt a clenching in your chest as you entered the room and saw Severus siting in his usual spot. Remembering his words you bit your lip and looked down. Hearing Sirius call for you to come sit with him you ignored him as you just sat in the spot you had the other day.  

For the remainder of the week things had continued downward. You were quickly becoming a loner and your hopes that this school may be different, that you might have a chance to make some friends was fading with every passing day. You focused on your studies and during your free time you found places around the castle and it's grounds to either draw or read. It was during one of your free times when you were working on some extra credit you had finally gotten Slughorn to give you. Sitting in the library you had just finished mixing your brew when Sirius and the rest of the gang had found you.

"Whatcha making there doll?" Sirius questioned as he moved to stand in front of the female.

Looking up from your work you sighed and tilted the book with the potion recipe in it so he could read it for himself. You really weren't in the mood for chit chat, having watched as Severus and his friend Lily walked by you not too long ago. Lily of course had spoken to you but Severus had not, if anything he completely ignored your existence. It hurt, it ached everyday when he wouldn't even spare you a glance and that angered you to no end. There was something with him and you didn't know what it was but there was this pull to talk with him, to sit, to simply be near him but apparently he didn't share those feelings. You still had no idea what you had done to earn his harsh words. Normally you weren't one to let things people said get to you but for some reason when he called you stupid it cut deep. On the plus side it made you want to prove him wrong and work harder than before, hence the extra credit to catch up.

"Amortentia... well what do yo need that for sweetheart I'm right here." he said as he stepped a bit closer to her. Seeing her eyes drop back down to the book he glanced to James and the others to see them still watching with raised brows and smirks. Licking his lips he got an idea and snatched the vial from her hands.

Trying to grab for the potion vial as he took it from you and held it out you let out a sigh and closed your eyes before turning to him. "Give it back."

"You know I can think of a few way better things you could be spending your free time doing than extra credit." Leaning forward he smiled and got close to her face. "What do you say me and you go to the Three Broomsticks, I'll buy you a butterbeer... and whatever else your little heart desires."

"No thanks. Now please give me my potion." Reaching for the vial you saw him hold it just out of your reach and grit your teeth.

"Aw come on, I'll show you a good time."

"I said no. Now give me back my potion vial."

Holding it behind his back as she hoped off the chair to stand before him he smiled down at her. "I'll give it back to you... for a kiss." he said and saw even James' eyes go wide.

Glaring daggers at the male you clenched your teeth. "What?!"

"You give me a kiss and I'll give you back your vial." he spoke in a matter of fact tone.

"Not a chance in hell." you growled. Going to try and grab you vial back you wrung his arm and pulled but he wouldn't budge. "Damnit Black just give me back my...." When you felt something get pressed over your lips your eyes went wide and froze for a second. As soon as you registered what was happening you quickly pulled away, your hands pushing out before you could think twice. Next thing you knew Black was being shoved backwards into the small desk and then you heard the sound of a loud 'thunk'. Snapping your eyes to the floor you saw your potion spilt all over the floor and your book, the small cauldron you had been brewing in knocked over. "No."

Looking to the mess he opened and closed his mouth and turned to look to the female. Just by the look on her face he knew he had messed up. "Y/n I... I'm..."

"Don't. Just leave me alone." Scrambling to grab your bag you hurried away from the embarrassing scene, shoving through the small crowd of people that had been watching. You kept your head down as you hurried to your dorm, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. Both embarrassed and angry you dropped down onto your bed and waved your wand to close the curtains around you. Casting a silencing charm around you as cries started to fall from your lips you curled up on the bed, gripping the pillow to your face. Damn that Black. Not only had he stolen your first kiss from you, something that was supposed to be special but he had also ruined any chance of catching up your grade in Potions. Slughorn had told you that he would only provide you with enough ingredients to make the potion once. If you messed up that was it, you wouldn't get a second chance and now any chance you had was gone. Not to mention he had done all of that in front of other people. Sniffling you nuzzled your face into the pillow.

.........................................

Study sessions were always something he and Lily had done together. It gave them time to hang out and catch up on the weekends while also getting their work done. Today was no different, after breakfast they had made their way to the library to go study. Passing by the aisle of bookshelves he heard Lily interrupt him and stilled when he noticed she had stopped walking.

"Hey Y/n."

Snapping his eyes over to one of the far desks he saw the female sitting there, a steaming cauldron in front of her along with many books and other things. Was she making a potion?

"Oh hey Lily.... Severus."

Hearing her say his name and look to him he simply turned his head away and remained quiet.

Seeing the way Severus acted and the slightly saddened look cross Y/n's face she knit her brows before giving a small grin. "Are you practicing potions?" Lily asked the Hufflepuff and saw her nod, a tiny smile coming back on her lips.

"Extra Credit."

"Never a bad thing to have. Do you need any help?" She offered.

Tensing up he looked to his long time friend like she had grown another head.

Sharing a seconds glance with Severus she turned her head back to the female and saw her look down, her shoulders curling in slightly.

"Thank you but no."

Taking a deep breath she smiled and nodded. "We'll leave you to it then. See you later." Continuing to their normal study area she frowned at her friend. "What was that for?"

Sitting down he rose a brow and looked to her. "What?"

"She said hey to you and you just turned away. I thought the two of you were becoming friends." Hearing the male huff as he opened his book she sat down by him and knit her brows. "Well?"

"Y/n does not want us to be friends."

"Really because she sure looked hurt when you brushed her off so coldly right then."

"I am sure she was just upset I would not make her potion for her." He spoke in a gruff voice.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Rolling his eyes he met her green ones. "The only reason she sat with me is because she found out I was exceptional at potions."

"What gave you that idea?"

"Black told me. He said the only reason she gave me pretended to like me was because she heard the other students say I had the highest marks in our year." Looking back down to his book he tried to ignore the pressure in his chest that the information had caused. To say he was hurt when he found out the female that had been evading his mind constantly didn't really like him would be a lie. Even once he had found out the truth he couldn't stop the thoughts of her from barging into his head every now and again nor his eyes from lingering to her when she was near.

"Sirius told you that... and you believed him? Are you daft?" Seeing his shocked face at the insult she rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You told me yourself that Y/n talked to you on her first day here. You said she was always smiling, that she wanted to have lunch with you. Tell me oh genius one, how would she know you would have potions and Divinations with her before her first day? How would she know you were so smart? She asked to sit with you after you walked her to class right?"

"Well yes but..."

"But nothing. She wanted to sit with you because she enjoyed your company. She wanted to talk to you because maybe she thought you were interesting and she thought you might want to be her friend. Her first friend in a new school I might add."

Licking his lips he raised his chin. "Well that still does not change the fact that her and Black were getting all cozy in Divinations..."

Was he? "You're jealous."

"I am not..."

"You like her." Smiling as she watched her friend's cheeks turn a shade of pink she turned more towards him when he tried to shove his nose into the book. "That's why you were so hurt by what Sirius said, that's why you got mad when you saw him flirting with her."

"Alright enough. So what if I do? We both know that when it comes down to it there is no way she is going to pick me over Black."

Knowing how much Severus doubted himself she furrowed her brows and shook her head. Opening her mouth to the sound of arguing made her close her mouth back and her brows dip.

Watching as Lily stood he sighed and quickly followed. Standing beside her he watched as Black and the rest of the idiots stood by Y/n with Black standing directly in front of her. Seeing Sirius holding something away from her as she tried to wrestle it from him he felt his eyes go wide when Black suddenly kissed her. All too soon a growl was rumbling in his chest and his teeth clenched together so hard he thought they might crack.

When she shoved him away and into the desk he saw the small cauldron she had been brewing in fell to the floor. Staring at the mother of pearl sheen to it along with the spiraling steam he tilted his head. Was that what he thought it was? All too soon the smell was filling his nose and he had to grip the bookcase as that strong delicious scent once again infuriated his mind.

"Y/n I... I'm..."

"Don't. Just leave me alone."

When he was able to free his mind from the addicting smell he shook his head to help clear his head and looked up but she was gone. Gritting his teeth when he recalled what Black had done he pulled his wand "Oppugno." he muttered. As the books came off the shelves to start hitting the four males he saw Lily look to him as they ran from the library. "They deserved it."

Moving back to their seats she rose a brow. "That sure didn't look like Y/n accepting Black's advancements to me."

Glancing up he blinked before looking back down. Feeling that pull in his chest once again he furrowed his brows in thought.

...................................

Waking up early you decided to give it one more shot at brewing the love potion. While no you couldn't go get any of the supplies from Slughorn you could possibly find them around the castle and you still had a bit of pearl dust left as well as moonstone. Time was a big problem as it took sixteen hours to brew but since you had woken up early you hoped that if you skipped meal times and worked until late tonight you might be able to get it done. Packing your books up in your bag you grabbed your cauldron and the rest of the Pearl dust and moonstone before heading out.

Not wanting to chance being bothered again today you decided to go work out by the lake. Looking over the ingredients again bit your lip in thought. You had the moonstone and Pearl dust but you still needed Peppermint, rose thorn and Ashwinder egg. The first two would be easy enough to find but the egg was a whole other story. Glancing up to the tree branch you climbed up and placed your things in the hidden nook where the branches met to hide your things while you were gone. Climbing down you made sure they couldn't be seen before heading out to search for ingredients not noticing the person watching you from behind the rocks.

Finding some rosebushes out by the quidditch fields you carefully began breaking some of the thorns off. "Ouch." sucking on the tip of your bleeding thumb you shook it off and let out a sigh as you finished, pouring them into a small vial and stuffing it into the back pocket of your jeans. "Okay peppermint." You knew from herbology that it grew in moist areas and preferred full sun. So maybe by the lake. Walking along the shoreline you examined the leaves. "Come on. Where the hell is it...."

"Peppermint grows on the south side of the lake."

Letting out a small yelp you turned around and knit your brows a bit, he was the last person you thought would be there. Not really knowing what to say to him you licked your lips and looked down. "Thanks. Wait... how did you know I was looking for peppermint?" you questioned, looking up to his onyx eyes and tilting your head a bit.

Blinking he kept her gaze. "Your potion, the one you were making in the library yesterday it spilt. I assumed you were trying to recreate it. It was Amortenia, the ingredients are rose thorn, Moonstone powder, pearl dust, Ashwinder egg and p..peppermint."

He really was incredible. Feeling your chest warm and that strong pull you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. No, you knew how he felt about you, don't let your emotions cloud reality. "You're right. Thanks for the tip." you spoke softly before turning to go seek out the leaf.

Her smile wasn't as bright as before and she wouldn't hold his gaze long. Feeling that tugging in his chest grow stronger as she walked away he took a deep breath and followed her. "I can help you."

"Don't worry about it, wouldn't want any of my stupidity to rub off on you." That was rude but to be fair he was the one that had been a jerk in the first place. Besides it had been in the back of your mind since it had spilt from his mouth. His insult made you question yourself constantly, always wondering if you were doing something wrong. Stupid was on of the many things people labeled your rank as and you had been working your whole life to prove them wrong.

He deserved that, he knew he did but it didn't make it sting any less. He could tell his words had hurt her. Even after he had said that to her, told her to go sit with Black and Lupin she hadn't. No instead every day in potions she sat alone at the back of class. He would cast a glance her way ever now and again, even if he hadn't wanted to there was something that seemed to pull him to her. Then when he would see her sitting all alone with her head down as she took notes he would feel a small sting in his heart. Even now he felt that clenching. Never before had he had feelings like these and never before had he cared so much about someone else's.

Licking his lips he stepped forward and grabbed her wrist to make her stop. "Y/n..." When she turned towards him, those bright blue eyes looking up at him hesitantly he swallowed hard. "I am sorry for what I said to you, that I called you stupid. You're not... stupid that is, far from it."

Blinking you looked down to where his hand was still holding your wrist and then back up. "Why did you say that? Why did you think that I was sitting by you only to use you?"

Looking out over the lake he took a deep breath. "Why else would you sit by me?"

"Because I thought I was making a friend."

She answered so quickly, without hesitation. Lily had been right, she really did want to be friends with him. He didn't know if he should be happy that someone actually liked him or angry that he had possibly ruined that friendship before it coudl even start. A even mixture of both probably. "Seems I am the stupid one."

Feeling the corners of your lips turn up some you gave a shrug. "It's okay, most men are." When his eyes snapped to yours in a small glare you couldn't help but giggle.

Chuckling after a moment he felt her pull her wrist from when he had been unknowingly still holding it and start walking down the lake. Moving after her he walked beside her and helped look for the green leaf. "How many other ingredients do you need to find?"

"Just the peppermint and Ashwinder egg."  

Humming he nodded slowly. "The egg is not going to be easy to get but I think I may know a way."

"I said you didn't have to help me."

"I want to. What are friends for right?" he asked with a raise of his brow and saw her look to him and grin.

.....................................

Turns out he was able to get you an egg through Professor Silvanus Kettleburn. The man who you heard about and seen glimpses of but had yet to meet was tall with silver hair and curls mustache. He seemed to only have one of his arms and half of his leg left as the rest were prosthetics. Even one eye was missing.  As soon as he saw you however you stiffened when he came limping towards you with a large smile on his face.

"There is no doubt about it you are Leatha and Asher's pup aren't you.... Y/n right?!"

Shocked you nodded and gave a small smile. "Yes sir."

"HAHA I knew it. I haven't seen you since you were a wee babe. Just knew it was you though, you have your father's eyes but your ma's beauty. Asked her out once and she hexed me into next week." He laughed. Noticing the other student there he grinned. "Ah Mornin' there Mr. Snape."

"Good morning professor." he spoke.

"So what is it you need, what kind of potion you making now?"

"Ashwinder egg." You spoke up.

Raising his brows he looked between the two. "For?"

"Amortenia, it's extra credit for Professor Slughorn to help me catch up my grade since I started late." you told him.

Humming he nodded. "Alright then, come along we'll see what we can find."

Glancing to Severus you saw him tilt his head and smiled before following the professor.

"I do hope you will be taking my class at some point."

"Yes sir I have your class next semester."

"Good. Good. Tell me does your father still have the pub up and running?"

"Yes."

"Might have to stop in for a drink this summer and some of your ma's pie."

Listening in on their conversation he noted all of the things Kettleburn asked her as the Professor led them to the small hut that opened up into a massive zoo like place with all sorts of magical creatures around. He had been her times before but he couldn't help the slight pull at his lips when he saw the smile that came to Y/n's face. Watching carefully and quietly as they visited he stiffened at one point and quickly wrapped his arm around Y/n's waist to pull her away from the beast that had been lurking in the shadows. There was a bit of resistance but with the ripping of fabric he was able to yank her out of the thing's reach.

Hearing the banging of bars as well as a small gasp he turned quickly to see the young male standing with one arm wrapped around Y/n's waist and the other hand holding his wand a few feet from cage where the Quintaped was now thrashing and reaching through the bars to get to the young female. Noticing the creature's eyes glowing and it's clear desperation to get to her made him tilt his head. While yes Quintapeds were carnivorous and a right nasty bunch he had never seen it in a frenzy like this. He knew they normally hunted for their prey by smell... maybe she had been around something or... Snapping out of this thoughts when he heard the two student talking he shook his head some and grinned. "Quick thinking Mr. Snape, I fear if he would have gotten a good hold on our dear Y/n it wouldn't have been a pretty sight. Ten points to Slytherin." Casting a sleeping charm on the Quintaped he saw two of it's arms that were still reaching for the female fall to the ground as it fell into a slumber. "Now let's get you both that egg, yes?"

Looking down he blushed a bit when he realized he was still holding her close to his chest. Removing his arm he saw her turn to look up at him.

"Thank you."

Not trusting his voice he nodded and then dropped his eyes to her ripped jeans. Crouching down he looked over her leg for any injury but didn't see any although the sight of her bare skin made a warmth flood his stomach. Clenching his fist to keep from reaching out to touch her he swallowed hard and raised his wand, "Reparo."

Watching as the material of your pants mend itself back together you grinned. Keeping his eyes as he stood you breathed in and almost sighed at the scent that filled your nose. Smoke, earthy like the smell after it rained, old leather and a hint of something all it's own. You wouldn't say it was fresh but it was oddly comforting and evocative. All too soon you wanted nothing more than to envelope yourself in that scent, to be covered in it. When the pendant over your breastbone grew heavy and throbbed you closed your eyes and swiftly turned around to catch up with Professor Kettleburn.

.............................

Sitting on the ground beneath the tree by the lake he watched as she made the potion, he had offered to help her but she said she wanted to do it but he had insisted on crushing the moonstone into a fine powder for her, knowing it was key to a successful love potion. Now as she stirred the liquid he took the time to again look over the female. She was a bit more petite than normal females, her features soft except or her eyes which he found particularly feral looking at times. As she sat cross-legged beside him he noticed how her wavy hair fell around her, how it shinned a bit in the sun. What he wouldn't give to run his fingers through it like that damn Black had done. Just the thought of him touching her, kissing her made another deep growl rumble in his chest.

"...for next semester?" Hearing a noise from beside you that sounded like a growl made the omega in you tense, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight and you your shoulders curl inward. Hesitantly looking beside you to where the male sat you couldn't raise your eyes to his, the submissive trait of an omega forbidding you to. You didn't understand why, why were you reacting this way to him, he was a beta. Wasn't he? Blinking and swallowing hard you stuttered out his name. "S..severus..."

It was like his mind was running wild. Images of Sirius Black pushing his lips to Y/n's, of him wrapping his arm around her, of him twirling her hair flashed through his head. He hadn't even realized he was clenching his teeth, fisting his hands or letting out a deep growl until he heard a soft voice calling his name. When he came back to he looked down and saw her curled up a bit, her eyes cast down. "I...ahem...forgive me...I didn't catch what you said..."

When he stopped making that noise you were finally able to look up to his black eyes and felt your heart pound against your ribs. "I...I asked what classes you were taking next semester."

Her voice was so soft, trembling even. Just what the hell was all of that about? Looking back to the potion he grabbed the spoon to stir it a bit. "Ah...herbology, Defense against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures and Astronomy. You?"

Relaxing a bit more you took a deep breath and smiled. "Care of magical creatures, Charms, Astrology, Defense and Art."

So they had three classes together next semester. That means you will be around her more. "Art?" he questioned with a tilt of his head and saw her look back to her potion, taking over stirring and give a shrug.

"I like art, it's one of my hobbies."

He hadn't meant to make her feel like he was judging her. "You are an artist?"

Blushing you shook your head, "No...no I just draw in my free time, sometimes... at home I build things."

Smiling he heard the clock chime from school and knew it was noon. Knowing she had been out here doing this since early morning and that she didn't attend Dinner last nigh he knit his brows. Come to think of it he had noticed her skipping meals more often than not. "Would you like to go get something to eat? I can stay here and keep making the potion."

Shaking your head you gave him a smile. "No I'm good, you go ahead."

She wasn't going to eat, he didn't like that. He really didn't like that. Being hungry was something he was used to during the summer, when he was back home and had to scrounge around for food only to sometimes come up with nothing at all. Only during his time at Hogwarts did his stomach not clench painfully. So with that being said he knew what it felt like to go without and the thought of her feeling that made an extreme feeling of displeasure come over him. No. He was not having it. Standing he stared down at her when she looked up to him. "I will be back." Seeing her smile at him and nod he made his way towards the castle.

While he was gone you finished adding your ingredients and brought them to a boil. As the silvery steam began to swirl out of the cauldron you couldn't help from breathing in the comforting scent. It was something you had smelt before, yesterday you had smelt the same thing but only now did you know who it was that smelled of leather and smoke, of earth and an original musk. Just breathing it in now made your every muscle in your body relax and your heart hum.

Still confusion ate at you, he was a beta. Up until now he had shown no alpha traits. Alphas were dominant, arrogant and sometimes aggressive when pushed. They were normally of larger build and perfumed their scent around them. Severus though, well he wasn't really like that. He kinda was but he wasn't arrogant, he also wasn't outwardly aggressive. Alphas didn't normally let themselves be put down like he was so often it seemed. He was also quiet where all other alphas you knew were loud. Yes he was tall but he was skinny as well. There was also the fact that he wasn't all over you like Sirius tried to be.

Biting your lip you thought back to that growl you had heard earlier. Only alphas were able to make an omega submit with their growl. Perhaps it had just been so long since you had heard the noise? Or hell maybe it was just his that was different from other betas, he did have a deep voice as it was so maybe his growl just sounded deeper as well. That still wouldn't make sense why it had made your inner omega react the way it had though. Pulling out your pendant you looked over the black stone, was it becoming less effective? You really didn't want to have to take that suppressive potion, you didn't want to feel like that again.

"That is an interesting stone." Seeing the female startle and hearing her let out that small yelp again he rose a brow, the corner of his lip lifting just a hair. Sitting back down beside her he pulled out the beef hand pies he had wrapped in a cloth along with a silver goblet of water he charmed to not spill and a few biscuits. "Is this alright? I do not know what it is you like to eat."

Tacking the amulet back into your shirt you looked down when you noticed him laying something out between the both of you. Food? He had gotten it for you? Looking down and then up to him you felt a warming in your chest. "You didn't have to do that. I told you I was fine."

"I know you didn't eat dinner last night or breakfast this morning... you need to eat." Holding her stare he hardened his own a bit and spoke in a tone he didn't quite recognize himself. "Eat." Seeing her straighten up some and noticing her eyes go a bit wide he watched as she looked down and obediently took one of the hand pies to start nibbling on it. Blinking he raised his chin and knit his brows a bit in confusion before shrugging it off and grabbing one of the pies for himself. Hearing her mumble a small thank you he grinned and leaned back against the tree, his eyes starring out over the black lake.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

bucky barnes x reader. masterlist.

part 1 — part 2 (soon)

a / n. this is a series of 15 mini-drabbles to celebrate the 500 followers' milestone, based on one word for each story. this first part contains 8, and the next one contains 7. it was supposed to be posted one story per day, but by that way, it'd take me to last an eternity to post other works / requests.

words. 1.533.

warning, tags. none, just a bunch of fluffy and cute situations with bucky.

join my tag list.

necklace;

It was the first time since you started to date that Bucky had to leave for a mission. Neither of the two of you knew when he'd be back, and that got you worried than ever. You were conscious of what he did for a living when you met him, but you couldn't help but feel scared. Next to the front door of your apartment, Bucky left his backpack on the floor, leaning to cup your cheeks on his palms and kiss your lips tortuously slow.

“I'll be okay, (Y/N)”. He murmured keeping his eyes closed.

“You better”.

Your hidden threat made him giggle. The soldier felt goosebumps bristling his skin as your fingertips toured his neck blindly, just to put in place the chain of his necklace. But soon, Bucky stopped your moves to take it off from him and place his dog tags on you.

“I'll come back for them”. He promised, fixing his pale blue orbs on yours, holding your hands to bring them to his lips and place fond kisses on every knuckle of both. “I love you, don' forget it, okay?”

“I won't... How could I, Buck?”

eclipsed;

Bucky was sweating, still not believing he was about to get married to the love of his life. He was on the altar, waiting for you and surrounded by all of your friends in common. Steve had had to help him with a panic attack he had suffered while dressing up, thinking that maybe you could change your opinion at the last moment. He couldn't blame you. But all those doubts vanished at the second you crossed the huge, heavy doors of the church. Your beauty eclipsed him, wearing a white lace wedding dress and seeming like you floated over the floor. Just like an angel.

His heart jumped. His oceanic eyes got covered in tears. A giggle escaped his lips, stretching a hand towards you, still praying it's not a dream. And you noticed the tension and the nervousness running his veins, leaning forward to kiss his cheek with all the love you felt for your future husband.

“Can't wait to say yes”. You whispered into his ear, causing Bucky to lace his arms around you and embrace you tight and tenderly. “I love you, James, from now and forever”.

sunset;

After his most recent nightmare and walking all grumpy from one side of another around your house, you decided to cheer him up only like you can do. With reluctance, you managed to get him out of your apartment and drag him to your car. Bucky was like a child, cross-armed, lips puckered and frowning annoyed. He tried to hide the fact that he had another nightmare to not worry you, but you weren't stupid.

Thinking that glimpsing the beach throughout the large front window would make him feel happier, your boyfriend just reclined himself on the seat, causing you to roll your eyes. That mood changed as soon as Bucky was sitting on the sand, between your legs, tho. His back was resting against your chest and his neck was wrapped by one of your arms, watching fascinated the sunset on the horizon. He wouldn't recognize it, but he felt much better hearing the waves crashing into the shore, while you stroked his scalp tenderly using the tip of your nails.

“You're welcome, grumpy mummy”.

clingy;

You didn't want to drink, but Sam and Sarah wanted to celebrate that the family business was picking up. On another occasion, you wouldn't mind, but Bucky was there. So, when everything started to spin around, you lead your clumsy steps to the edge of the harbor, having a sit there and let the soft breeze help you.

“Stop”. You heard from behind.

“Uh?”

“You're stealing my antisocial personality”. Bucky chuckled, taking a seat by your side. “What's up? Why are you here all alone?”

“Truth or lie?” You asked tilting your head towards him, raising both eyebrows.

“Truth”. He scoffed as if it wasn't obvious.

“I'm too clingy when I'm drunk”.

“Can't see the problem there”.

You chuckled, shaking your head inevitably, causing him to pucker his lips with a funny grimace.

“What?”

“Tru—”.

“Truth”.

“I've been all night wanting to rub your beard”.

Bucky exploded in loud laughter, not believing your words until you put your hands on his jawline. “God... It's so soft”.

His laughs increased, causing you to burn in shame. “No more drinks for you, ma'am...”

But the fact was that he turned to you, so it could be easy to caress his face.

safe;

Bucky was deadly tired on the sofa, warmly cuddled between your arms. A while ago, he stopped to pay attention to the movie, turning his back to the TV to hide his exhausted expression on your chest. You placed the cozy blanket over your bodies, making sure it covered both of you, being aware that tonight you'd sleep there. You felt sorry just at the thought of waking him up, seeing him peacefully breathing and his face more relaxed than the last few days.

Shutting off the TV and stretching an arm above your head, you turned off the small lamp on the auxiliary table close to the sofa, before getting comfier by Bucky's side. Your boyfriend purred delighted, still sleepy, as your fingers got tangled on his hair and started to scratch his scalp slowly, urging you somehow to place a leg over his waist, so he could settle between both a little more closely.

“Feel better?”

“I feel safe”. He replied in a low breath, to exhale the sweet scent concentrated on your neck.

“You're safe, James. You're at home”. Your calmed tone made him sigh, snuggling you strongly.

stay;

You snapped awake because of some knocks on the front door. Tossing the sheets to a side of the bed, you grabbed the gun under your pillow. It was stupidity. If somebody wanted to kill you, that would be the last thing they'd do: knock the door. You walked slowly, step by step, through the main hallway aiming to the door, more than ready to shoot your assailant.

“It's... Bucky”. You heard from the other side.

Sighing in relief and closing your eyes for a split second, you left the weapon on the dinner table in the living room. Not doubting on opening the door, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when you noticed the reddened mark around his left eye and cheek.

“Can I, uh... stay tonight with you?” Bucky inquired, licking his upper lip ashamed, bowing his eyes down to his boots covered in dust.

“C'mon, Sergeant”. You invited him to walk in, using such a sweet tone, while holding his cold hand.

He looked like shit but felt much better when his arms got wrapped around your waist and middle-back, hiding his face into your neck. Kicking the door shut, you embraced him tighter to your body.

notebook;

You were lying on the opposite side to Bucky on the sofa, but keeping your legs tangled. It was a rainy evening with nothing to do and you decided to start to read the book you bought last week. Your boyfriend was silently doing something in a notebook. Maybe writing memories, maybe doodling, you didn't know. But the third time you caught him staring at you, you had to ask.

“What?”

“Uh... nothing”. He whispered focused on the paper in front of his eyes.

“Whaaat?” You kicked his right leg with your bare foot causing him to chuckle.

“Nothing!” Bucky replied using the same playfully tone of voice.

Putting the book on the coffee table, you sat up to lie on top of him, cuddling between his legs and resting your head on his chest. Glancing to the sketch of yourself he was drawing, you raised your heart-eyes to his. It was such a piece of art. The drawing and Bucky. Both.

“I learned in Romania. It kept me sane sometimes”. He confessed, leaning to place a kiss on your forehead. “I want to remember you forever”.

marshmallow;

“Truth or dare?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, leaning on the table just like you did, challenging him. He was trying to read your mind to figure out which were your intentions.

“Dare”. He answered firmly.

“Put twenty marshmallows in your mouth”.

The soldier stared at you in silence, watching him lick his inner cheek and push it with the tip of his tongue. He nodded his head then, grabbing the plastic bag without losing eye contact, to start to place —one by one— the sweets into his mouth. In less than thirty seconds, he looked like a squirrel with his cheek swollen. Bucky squinted at you again, triumphant.

“Hold on, I need to capture this moment”. You laughed, catching your phone to take a picture.

When the flash went off, he spitted a marshmallow like a shotgun. And you couldn't help but laugh.

“C'mon, Bu—”.

You didn't finish the sentence, being hit by another marshmallow slightly wet because of his saliva. Your grimace turned into a funny disgust, grabbing it back to throw it to his face.

“You're like a five years old in a body fos— STOP!” You ended up giggling as he spitted you the third one.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

and REBLOG!!!

support the writers 🤍

tag list: @whatrambles @phoenixhalliwell @homesicam @marvel-diaries @amelia-song-pond @heartbeats-wildly @met4no1a @weenersoldierr @petlaufeyson @sillygamingartghost @wildflowergubler @isnt-it-loverly @zealouspursecowboydeputy @rvgrsbrns @artisancowbells @plagooey @tinylumpiaa @hemsbucky @bxmaaa @quxxnxfhxll @soldierstucky @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul @hateinthemorning @asemistablehundredyearoldman @purpleelfwizard @twinerd14 @nikkixostan @stolenxkissess @wintersfilm @whoreforsamwilson @thatcrackheadsadbitchtm @baconmuffins1216 @28cnn @hxlyhoax @lieswithoutfairytales @angrybirdxx @clownerlyluv @kait-is-always-late @marvel-ousnesss @natashadeservedbetter @ebxny27 @fanofalltheficsx @spider-man-lover @masterlists101 @lewd-alien @warm-sensations @stealapizzamyheart @talk-on-the-street @theresnoplatypus @need-serious-help

[hufflepuffhollander]

off limits: tom holland one-shot

a/n | this is my submission for @chloecreatesfictions’ 1k writing challenge! i’ve never done the “brother’s best friend” trope and i def got a little too excited and carried away! real talk, this might be the cutest thing i’ve ever written

summary | as harrison osterfield’s younger sister, you’d always just seen his best friend tom as an annoying older brother. until, one day, you didn’t.

cw | tom x osterfield!reader. contains language, alcohol, recreational use of weeeed, teenage angst, sexual tension, fluff n’ stuff. 5k words.

For as long as you could remember, Tom Holland had been a stitch in your side that you could never get rid of.

Growing up as your older brother’s best friend, he was always at your house when you were children— and his favorite pastime when Harrison was boring him was to break into your room and mess with you, stealing your toys or running his hands across the piano keys when you were trying to practice in peace. No matter how many locks you put on your door just to keep Tom out, he was always able to pick them.

As you all got older, he grew to annoy you in a different way, blasting loud, grungy music through Harrison’s bedroom walls late at night or eating things out of the fridge that clearly had your name on them. Once he’d started to garner some attention as an actor, his ego skyrocketed, and somehow he became an even bigger nuisance. He dragged Harrison away from you and took him all over the world while you had to sit idly by and love your brother from a distance.

When Tom would come over now, he would talk of nothing but hollywood parties and getting drunk with the biggest a-listers when he knew you were listening. He would ignore you when he breezed past you in the hallway, and even had the audacity to go into your bedroom when you were out and smoke a blunt on your bed so your whole room smelled like a music festival when you got home; and worst of all, it was your weed.

It was sufficient to say you were Tom Holland’s least enthusiastic fan. And it was rather unfortunate, because you were a big stan of the MCU—and secretly loved getting high and watching and re-watching the spider-man movies the most. Okay, don’t make that face. They have a good storyline.

It was a regular Friday night, you were aimlessly scrolling through your phone while Harrison and Tom were getting ready to go pub hopping. Harrison always invited you, but you never took him up on his offer because you knew how flirty you got with alcohol in your system and wouldn’t dare feel that way around Tom. He was notorious for taking anything nice you said about him and rubbing it in your face for at least a week after. 

“You know you secretly love me, babe.”

You hated when he called you babe, and he knew it. But since you’d both grown up, time had done you both a favor, and there was always an air of something you couldn’t quite place your finger on whenever you interacted...the pet name just made it more interesting.

“Hey, y/n, are you sure you don’t want to come out with us?” Harrison yelled from outside your bedroom door, and you peeked your head out to respond.

“Nah, it’s fine, Haz, go have fun. I have enough uni work to keep me busy.”

“It’s a Friday night, nerd.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and smiled. “Sorry I’m not a budding alcoholic like you, big bro.”

He laughed, blew you a kiss, and he and Tom were off.

Only about an hour later, you decided to take a break from studying and light up a joint, turning on your go-to movie for background noise- but were snapped out of your vibey trance when you heard the front door swing open, and your brother’s loud, drunk voice.

“W-why are we h-home, you div,” he slurred, as his heavy footsteps start to climb the stairs. After a long moment, you heard him collapse on his bed through your thin walls, still stammering out his words. “Thomas, I promise you, I am fineeee...”

“Mate, you’re sloshed. Go to bed.”

You decided to leave them be. This was a typical occurrence- one of the boys went too hard too early, and the other had to babysit until they made it home to pass out cold, usually on the bed, or the couch, or on a good day, the floor.

A few minutes passed while you hotboxed your room, feeling amazingly relaxed, until you saw your doorknob wriggling out of the corner of your eye. Your door was locked, so you ignored it. But the knob kept twisting and falling back in place, making the whole frame shake. After a long while of witnessing a ghost try to make its way into your room, you watched your lock turn slowly and click out of place, the door creaking opened to reveal Tom, swatting at the air when a cloud of smoke greeted him.

You snapped your laptop closed before he could hear his own voice flowing out of your speakers. “Tom, for the last time, stop picking my fucking lock!” You beamed your nearest pillow at him—which he caught before it struck him—and he threw it back, hitting you square in the face. Of course.

He flashed a cocky smile. “Why? It’s so easy.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious! I could’ve been naked or something!”

He just stood in the doorframe, giving you a once-over in your thin cotton t-shirt and yoga pants, and kept that smug expression locked on his face. 

“Ew, Tom, you’re disgusting. Get out.”

He decidedly did not get out, instead closing the door behind him and hopping up next to you on your bed, the divot in your mattress leaving your bodies pressed much too close together. You were met with a strong whiff of his cologne and the gin he must’ve been drinking earlier. “I’ll take that,” he muttered as he lifted your joint out of your fingers and took a puff, sucking his breath in as his lungs filled. 

Your stomach filled with a dull fire and you narrowed your eyes. “Do you mind?”

He turned to face you and blew a big puff of smoke directly into your face, the notorious smirk making its reappearance. “Not at all, thanks for asking though.”

You groaned aloud. “What are you doing in here?” he took another draw and handed you back what was rightfully yours, smoke dissipating from his mouth as he spoke.

“Haz is pissed and I’m bored.”

You relit the bud and inhaled for a long while, figuring you’d need to be pretty intoxicated to not smack him in the face if he tried to talk again. “Well, go be bored somewhere else. I was busy.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you and reached across your lap for your computer. “Doing what?” 

Oh shit. “Dude, can you not-?!” you yelped, but he had swiped it too quickly out of your grasp, and opened it up to find himself paused on your screen. You laid back on your bed so he couldn’t see your cheeks now flushed with embarrassment and grabbed your lighter from your nightstand. It was going to be a long evening.

He leaned himself over to catch your eye and had the stupidest, most prideful look plastered across his face. “Gotcha.”

You punched him in the arm as he erupted into laughter—but the anger inside you had been dulled by the weed and replaced with a childlike silliness—and you started to giggle, too. You looked up into his eyes, pupils now wildly dilated and tinted red around the edges.

“Shut up, Tom, you’re high,” you said in between chuckles.

“Yeah? Well so are you!”

You poked fun at each other for a while, suddenly in a mutually fantastic mood. You knew in the back of your mind that none of this would be happening if you hadn’t gotten stoned together, but you enjoyed the warm company anyway. 

“Well, you gotta finish it, don’t you?” he said, settling back down and fixating the computer on his lap so you could both see it.

“You really want to watch your own movie?”

“Doll, it’s my favorite thing to do.” he smiled at you.

“God, you’re the worst.” you felt some butterflies make an entrance in your chest that had never been there before.

He pressed play and cozied up on your bed, lying back against the wall with his arm lazily draped behind you. You pulled a blanket up onto your lap and had really no choice but to lean on him for support, neither of you admitting out loud that you were full on cuddling and not angry about it.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna share?” he whined, pulling at the corner of your blanket.

“Get your own,” you responded, internally high-fiving yourself for finally getting the chance to sass him back. Sure, you had your head comfortably resting on his shoulder, but that didn’t mean you were suddenly friends.

You let the movie play, the two of you blowing through the joint until it was a dwindling nub. The scene where Peter has his big kiss with MJ started, and you stifled a snigger as their lips met on the screen.

Tom had clear offense laced through his words. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged.

He sat up to look at you, eyebrows knit together in an angry pout. “Tell me.”

“I just...feel bad for Zendaya, that’s all.” you covered your mouth to keep from laughing, and his eyes rolled so far back into his head you were sure they’d be stuck that way forever.

“You’re such a brat,” he started, his ego finding its old place back in his voice. “I’m an amazing kisser. She told me herself.”

You looked away from him, taking a heavy exhale. “Yeah, whatever, dude.”

He sat even more upright and paused the movie, taking hold of your shoulder to make you turn to him. “What, you don’t believe me?”

You realized then how physically close you had gotten, as you could feel the syllables of his words in his breath hitting your face. He was doing that thing boys do, when they’re thinking about kissing you but don’t- their stares going back and forth between your lips and your eyes in a not so subtle way. It freaked you out to see him that close and personal, and you whispered back exactly what you knew would irk him the most.

“Nope.”

He moved his face impossibly closer to yours, and you felt his soft lips lightly brush over your own. You weren’t sure if this was real, or just a high hallucination, but you didn’t move away. This was entirely uncharted territory.

“Tooommmm!” you heard Harrison yell out from the other side of the wall. “Where are yooouuu?! I’m so thirsty!” Tom immediately jerked his head away from you and shook himself out of the moment. You brought your hand up to your cheek and shuddered at how hot it had become- your own body was betraying you.

“God, he’s gonna be the death of me,” Tom said, shoving himself off the bed and walking out of your room, glancing back at you for a moment and then closing the door behind him. Just like that, he was gone, and you were left trapped in your own psyche wondering what the hell had just happened.

Over the course of the next week, things has become exponentially weirder between you and Tom. He seemed to be spending much more time at your house than he normally did, even sleeping a few nights there instead of driving the five minutes back to be in his own bed. One unsuspecting morning, you knocked on your bathroom door, annoyed that it had been shut for such a long time. 

“Haz, if you use up all the hot water again, I’m gonna kill you,” you said in between knocks. You were taken by surprise when it swung open, steam billowing out into the cool air.

“Whoops,” you heard a voice say, immediately realizing it wasn’t your brother. You took a step backward to see Tom emerge, wearing nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp and clinging to his forehead, and he looked like some glowing magazine model. 

“Uh, sorry,” you stammered, accidentally inhaling the yummy smell of his soap and shampoo emanating off of his skin.

He noticed you eyeing him and a sly grin appeared as he rolled his bottom lip under his teeth. “Shower’s all yours, babe,” he said, bumping your shoulder with his own as he walked away. You were stuck in place and didn’t see him glancing back at you as he wandered down the hallway. 

Another day after that, Tom and Harrison were looking for a certain record to play, but it was nowhere to be found. “It might be in y/n’s room,” Harrison said, sitting back in his lounge chair. “Wanna go grab it?”

Tom coughed. “Why do I have to get it?”

“Because I’m comfortable.”

Tom felt a mix of annoyance and nerves in his chest as he walked the short distance down the hallway to your room where the door was already cracked open. He invited himself in—excitement faltering a little when he saw you weren’t in your usual spot on your bed—and started to sift through your bookshelves.

You had been in the bathroom getting dressed after your shower, but realized you left your shirt in your closet- and seeing that Harrison’s bedroom door was still shut, you figured it was safe to run across the landing into your room without anyone seeing you. In just a bra and spandex shorts that left little to the imagination, you swiftly made your way across the hall and walked through your door that was still open a crack to see Tom kneeled down as he shuffled through your record collection.

He heard your small gasp when you entered to find him, and swiveled around to you standing only a few feet away from him in the least amount of clothing he’d ever seen on you. He abruptly stood up but didn’t move, eyes sparkling as they rolled down your body.

“What the fuck! Why are you always in my room?!” You were too shocked to think about finding something to cover yourself with, and put your hands over your face, trying not to die of embarrassment. Tom remained glued to his place on your carpet, clearly at a loss for words.

“Tom, can you leave please-”

“Right, yeah, okay, uh, bye-” he hurried out of your room, swinging the door almost shut but leaving just a crack so he could speak into it.

“...I like your shorts.”

“TOM!”

He chuckled and closed the door, and you slumped against the wall, still holding your head in your hands. What was this sudden hold he had over you? And why did you love the way that he was staring at you?

That night, you had a big paper to complete, and you were perched in your bed typing away as it got dark. In between two songs on your playlist, you heard the familiar jiggle of a doorknob. Looking up over your screen, you watched as the metal turned in its socket, and heard a soft “crushed it” as the lock undid itself. Your door opened steadily and slowly, a familiar face peeking in at you.

“Hi.”

“Oh sweet jesus,” you mumbled.

“You busy?”

“Clearly.”

“Cool.” Tom let himself into your room, shutting the door behind him and sauntering over to your bed, sitting down next to you, bouncing like a little kid and singing his words. “Whatcha doooin’?”

“Homework,” you said, continuing to type and trying your best to ignore the way the sound of his voice was waking up something electric inside of you. He leaned into your body to peer at your computer screen, pretending to be interested in whatever you were writing about. His elbow got in the way of your hands, and you had to stop typing.

“Thomas, is there something I can help you with?”

“Haz is asleep,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder like it hadn’t been a week since your almost-kiss and you hadn’t been actively avoiding bringing it up.

You felt jittery. “And?”

He gently pushed your hands away from the keyboard and closed your laptop shut, giving you a sheepish smile. “Wanna get high?”

Honestly, you did.

You turned on your lamp and turned off the overhead light, put on that record he finally found, lighting a candle and then another hand-rolled blunt. This time, Tom sat upright with you perpendicular to him, your legs swung over his lap. When he made a joke, he’d give your leg a little squeeze- and whether it was purposeful or not, you were filled with schoolgirl nerves every time it happened.

All the angsty barriers built up over years of a sibling-like rivalry had come down between the two of you as you smoked together; you suddenly found all of his bad jokes funny, and he couldn’t peel his eyes away from the cute way you scrunched your nose when you laughed. Every time you exchanged the blunt, you couldn’t help but think about how his lips had just been on it a moment before yours. The night came and went, and you ended up falling asleep wrapped in his arms as he dozed off with his chin pressed to your forehead.

You both woke up at the same time in the dead of night, unsure of how late it had gotten. Still nestled into each other, you exchanged sleepy glances and no words, taking a moment to realize the position you had put yourselves in. 

Tom grazed your jawline with the back of his hand and lifted up your chin with his thumb. You let your eyes flutter shut and he kissed you in the dark for one long, everlasting moment. He pulled back from you hesitantly, leaving you breathless. Did that really just happen?

“We...we can’t,” he whispered, his words tinged with sadness.

Your heart broke for him just hearing his voice. “Why not?”

“You’re my best friend’s little sister, y/n.”

“And you’re my brother’s best friend. So what?” you were almost upset with yourself for being so vulnerable; so visibly pining after him.

“So, you’re off limits,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. 

“Says who?” 

That prompted Tom to meet your gaze again, and this time you took initiative, moving your face to his and taking his bottom lip in between yours. He took a sharp inhale as you kissed him and seemed to let all inhibition go as he put his arms around your back and pressed you into him hard, all of his pent up feelings for you suddenly flowing out of him. He kissed you in a needy, desperate kind of way, and you loved every second of it. You ran your fingers through his hair, traced his jawline, using your hands to feel every bit of him that you couldn’t before. The strangest part of it all was how natural it felt- like you had been practicing for this very moment all your lives. 

Your record had stopped spinning a while ago, the room now filled with just the breathy noises of your kisses, your contented hums and his tiny mews when you bit his lips. You were both still barely lucid, and after countless minutes of nothing but innocent kisses, you were on the brink of falling asleep again, serotonin whisking you away into dreams. Tom sighed into you, and clasped his hand around yours.

“I have to go.”

“What? Why?” you felt your heart preeminently sink in your chest; like you should’ve known this was too good to last.

“I don’t want him to wake up and find us here,” he trailed off, staring down at your intertwined fingers fiddling together.

“So that’s it?” you tried to swallow back the sudden upwell of feelings inside you.

“No, no...” his eyes filled with some type of emotional strain you’d never seen. “I- I don’t want this to be it. But I don’t want things to get...messy.”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t blame him, because you understood.

“Can you come back tomorrow night?” you whispered, very not ready to let his spot next to you grow cold.

“I don’t know...”

You looked up at him doe-eyed, cooing. “Please?”

He nodded, looking away from you before he completely caved and stayed there forever. “I’ll come back.”

He pressed one last kiss onto your lips and slowly got up, reluctantly letting go of your hand as he left your room. “Goodnight, babe.”

Hearing him call you babe, finally free of demeaning sarcasm, made your heart soar. 

“Goodnight, Tom.”

The door shut and you were left alone, the stillness of your room sticking out in sharp contrast with how quickly your heart was racing.

For the next few nights, Tom spent the evenings at your house with Harrison, waiting until he fell asleep to make his way next door to you. You’d smoke together, watch his movies—and in heated moments got a little handsy—but you never went past kissing, though you both desperately wanted to. It was too risky having your brother right next door; and you knew all too well how paper thin your walls were. But in those secretive hours after solar midnight, just being able to exist next to Tom and letting him hold you, you were the happiest you could ever remember being. The second night he left your room to let you sleep, he placed a light kiss on your forehead after he stood up that made the whole thing feel a little too...real.

The next day, you walked into the kitchen and found Harrison at the fridge. You were in a great mood for obvious reasons but couldn’t let it show. “Hey, got any fun plans today?”

He turned around after shoving a handful of grapes in his mouth. “Nope, got some admin stuff to do and gonna turn in early.”

“Oh, Tom isn’t coming over?”

“No, I told him to take a night off. He’s been smothering me, y’know?” he laughed and ate a few more grapes, but then turned to you, confused. “Since when do you care if he’s coming over?”

You swallowed, unsure of what to say. “Just want to know if I need to stay out of the way,” you faked a laugh and blinked hard, hoping he wasn’t paying too much attention to your facial expressions.

“Uh, alright then. You two are always so fuckin’ weird around each other.” He seemed to feel that was a good way to end your exchange and walked out of the kitchen, throwing a grape at you.

You rolled your eyes at your brother, but then felt the sadness bubble up upon registering that you weren’t going to see Tom tonight. But really, how long did you think you could keep this up? The feelings you were developing for him scared you, you didn’t know what to make of them; all you knew was that your days suddenly seemed much grayer without him.

Nighttime came around, and you couldn’t sleep, so you did the unthinkable and sent Tom a text. Your thumb shook as you hit send, knowing that there was now tangible evidence of the connection you’d developed, that it wasn’t just some invention of your mind.

hey, are you awake?

T: yeah, can’t sleep. you?

obviously, i just texted you.

T: shut it.

A minute passed...

T: got room for one more over there?

You smiled like an idiot at your phone.

maybe.

Less than 10 minutes later, you heard the familiar wriggle of your doorknob. You don’t know why you even bothered locking it anymore.

“Hey you,” he whispered, carefully shutting the door behind him.

“Tom, you know you could’ve just knocked and I would’ve let you in- you don’t have to keep picking the lock.”

“Old habits die hard.”

You chuckled and stood up to greet him at your door as he unexpectedly wrapped you in an amazingly tight hug. He rested his chin on top of your head and started to sway your bodies back and forth. You laid your head on his chest and said hello to his heartbeat.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it was almost hard to fall asleep without you,” he murmured, placing another one of those domestic kisses on your scalp.

“Well, now you don’t have to.” you smiled. He waddled you backwards to your bed and you sat down as your legs hit the bedframe, prompting Tom to fall onto you as you giggled into his body that was now covering your face.

“Okay, goodniiight,” he said, refusing to move. You poked at his sides making him jump, and he grabbed your waist and rolled you on top of him. You instinctively leaned down so your lips could clash together in the way you were so used to, trying hard to not confess that you’d completely fallen in love with him when you finally had the breath to speak. He pushed your hair to cascade to one side of his face, and nuzzled your nose with his own, closing his eyes and humming with a smile. “Mmm.”

“Hmm?”

“Just happy.”

You rested your sleepy head on his warm chest, and fell into a deep sleep, letting the steady drumming in his chest be a metronome to breathe to.

~

“Oh, shit. Shit shit shit.”

You woke up abruptly, the bright light of day blinding you as you tried to open your eyes to the string of expletives you’d just heard come from a familiar voice. Once you’d opened them, though, you wish you had kept them shut so you hadn’t seen who had spoken.

“Harrison?!”

He was standing in your room, peering at you with hands half covering his eyes when you realized that there was a sleeping Tom underneath you.

Your brother paced in a circle and exhaled loudly. “Tell me I’m not seeing what I’m seeing.”

You nudged Tom awake with your elbow and immediately rolled off of him, trying to hide the very obvious fact that you had slept together all night. You never let him stay the full night for this exact reason, but he had been so ridiculously happy holding you in his arms that he forgot to set an alarm to wake him at the crack of dawn and leave. You sat up straight in your bed, twisting your hair in your hands, bracing yourself for the inevitable tirade.

Tom picked his head up to see Harrison standing there with his arms crossed, and flopped his head back on the pillow. “Fuck. Hey, mate.” He tried to play it off like this was the most normal thing that could happen on a Thursday morning.

“Is this why you’re always such bumbling fools around one another? You’ve been, what, fucking each other when I’m not around?” Harrison looked like he wanted to throw up at the thought.

“Haz, no, it’s not like that,” you said, but he didn’t seem convinced. “It’s just been smoking together and cuddling, really, that’s it,” you were torn between wanting to console your brother and admitting to both him and Tom that this was more to you than that. But Tom already knew that, because it was for him, too.

Tom looked like a deer in headlights. “I’m so sorry, dude-”

Harrison walked out of the room, and the two of you were left sitting in your bed, worry filling your eyes. Only a moment later, your brother reappeared in the doorway.

“Look, you idiots, I don’t care that you’re snuggling off the clock—you’re my two favorite people in the world, and to see you together, honestly, it’s about damn time,” he started, making both your and Tom’s jaws fall slightly agape. You exchanged a knowing look. Wait, is he not mad? Wait, about damn time??

“But I wish you would’ve told me so we could all hang out together. I don’t appreciate the sneaking around.” 

You cocked your head at him, sending him a loving gaze for always just wanting what’s best for you. 

“I’m just mad you aren’t including me in your hotbox sessions, really.” He laughed and ran his hands through his hair, pulling his face back to make a wild expression.

All three of you started to chuckle out of sheer awkwardness and relief.

“Come here.” Harrison held his hands out and you both gave a mutual aww as you ran into your brother’s arms, squeezing him tight.

“I love you, big bro.”

“I know. Now I’m gonna get out of here before you start kissing in front of me, or worse,” he moaned, swiftly exiting your room. “This is gonna be the grossest thing I’ve ever seen...” you heard him say to himself as he left.

You turned to Tom, still shocked at how well that had gone considering what he was assuming would happen. You swallowed the butterflies that you’d welcomed as friends and stepped back to him still sitting on the bed, putting your arms around his neck.

“And you,” you started, swinging your legs over his lap to straddle him. “I have to confess something.”

Tom placed his hands back on your hips where they rightfully belonged and smiled at you. “I’m listening.”

“I don’t mind you calling me babe anymore.” you grinned at his face drop, obviously assuming that you were going to say something else.

“Oh, and why’s that?” he prodded.

You looked up and off to the side as you squeezed his shoulders. “Maybe because I’m just a tad bit in love with you,” you trailed off, stiff as a board at what he could possibly say next.

“Well, babe,” he put emphasis on the pet name, “That’s a relief, because I was worried I might be the only one falling here.”

You grabbed his face and kissed him, kneading his soft cheeks under your thumbs, whispering exactly what you knew would get him the most.

“Nope.”

[giant-sketches]

Hello everyone and welcome back to another chapter of Mass Emotions after such a long wait. I worked very hard to make it worth that time of course, but please do be patient with me as I find more time to write and draw for this side blog of mine. :9

To find rest of the chapters you can follow this link!

If you would like to be added to the taglist please DM or send an ask. :3

Disclaimer: Crying/Shouting/Cursing/Anxiety Attack/Pain/Slight Physical Harm

Side-note: The main ship in this series is fluff LAMP. Janus is seen as a guardian figure to the other sides and is therefore not shipped with any of them. All sides are the same age, but their maturity varied in the past. 

It was night when Virgil started making his way out of the window from his room, sneaking past Logan’s surveillance drones, and into the surrounding woods. Two weeks had gone by of them discussing, or more like arguing over which of the remaining destabilized giants to go after. Obviously, Roman wanted to save his brother as soon as possible! On top of that Logan supported his wishes based purely on the fact that Remus was closest to breaking apart.

However, Virgil wanted to go for Janus instead. He was the first to destabilize so Virgil thought it only fair and Patton agreed with him. Saying he’d suffered enough of not being able to remember his family for the past years. Yet, there was another reason the anxious side wanted to save him first...Janus’s destabilization had been Virgil’s fault. He was the one who started it and He had to be the first to end it!

A surprise was waiting for Virgil though, a note stuck to the outside window instructing him to come to the cave on the West side, signed Janus. The timing was uncanny as he stuffed it into his hoodie pocket. Virgil was now alone in the woods making haste towards the obvious trap awaiting him.

Unfortunately, Patton’s sixth sense for tomfoolery kicked in as he suddenly woke up. Roman was snoring, Logan listening to his recorded tapes on scientific studies, and Virgil...nothing. Okay, that’s weird. Usually his Stormcloud liked to fall asleep to the sound of rain or ocean waves. Pat turned the knob to find it unlocked and then to find no Virgil sleeping within. “Oh kiddo.” He whispered, full of disappointment. He flew to the alarm and pressed the button to wake up the others.

“Holy! What, what is it?!”

“Ah! What time is it? Who hit the alarm?”

Patton stood in the hall with his arms crossed in full Dad mode. 

“Virgil’s gone.”

“He’s WHAT?!”

“You have got to be kidding me. H-he didn’t...you know?”

Patton nodded. There was no way it could be anything else. “He’s gone to meet with Janus.”

“Are you sure?”

Just then Pat held up a crinkled note. It was the one Virgil thought he stuffed into his pocket, but it fell out while he climbed out the window. Pretty much Virge had made a lot of mistakes despite thinking he was being careful.

“Shit. I’ll get my gear on.” Roman ran back into his room and Logan followed suit. There was no telling how long it’d been since Virgil had left. They needed to hurry.

---------------- Many Years Ago in the Mindscape

“Big bro Jan Jan!” Janus turned around to find himself being tackled by a slightly shorter side.

“Woah! Hey Virgil!” He smiled sweetly. “Be careful running around like that. What if you got hurt?” Virgie only giggled, “You’re such a worrywart Big bro Janus!”

“Well, that is true, I am Protectiveness after-all. I’m here to make sure we stay safe and can protect Thomas when he needs us.” He said as he took Virgil’s hand. “I’m also here as your all’s caretaker my little ball of Curiosity!”

The two used to be so close, just like brothers. Janus was always kind and stoic as he taught and cared for Virgil. He did the same for the other sides as well, since he was the most developed. Morality and Creativity being a little more mature than Virgil, as they all played together. To all of them Janus was like a guardian, despite all being the same age, and they loved him as such, but that did put a lot of pressure on the protective side.

One night, that pressure finally caused him to break. It was late when a strange sound caught his ear. “What was that?” He wondered, getting up from his bed to look down the hall. No one; still there was a slight breeze lingering below his feet. Is a window open or something? A sense of panic started setting in as he ran out to check on the others. Morality? He was sleeping while hugging one of many plushies. Then was Creativity okay? Yep, mumbling to himself about some dream. The last to check on was Curiosity...gone.

The window on the back wall was wide open as the cool night air taunted Janus’s paled face. “Virgil! Virgil, where are you? Please, please come here if you can hear me!” Where had he gone? Jan was trying hard to listen to any odd sounds around him, but the heart beat in his chest kept pounding. His eyes watery, ears ringing, why was this happening? Why did Virgil go outside when he’d been told to never leave the house without him? The stress had been building inside Janus for a while now.

His natural need to protect was eating away at him as the pressure grew. The pressure to be the perfect big brother Virgil idolized him for. The pressure to protect his family, protect Thomas, always be there, listen to their problems, and on and on! What about him? Didn’t he matter just as much? When was someone going to protect him, listen to HIM!

“No one ever really listens.” He grumbled. 

*SNAP*

Quickly, Janus turned his head around in the direction of the sound. Running at full speed until he saw Virgil on his knees on the cliffside. What was he doing? “Virgil!” He shouted.

Virgil turned to look at his panicked friend and smiled as he started to get up. Waving his hand around like he hadn’t a care in the world...and that’s when it happened. A strong gust of wind hit, causing the curious side to topple over and begin rolling off the cliff. “NO!”

Without any hesitation Janus jumped down and curled himself around Virgil to protect him as they both fell off the side. This was it; Janus was going to break apart any minute now. He was going to disappear forever. It wasn’t fair...he didn’t deserve this! It was all Virgil’s fault for going out at night, for not listening to his warnings about staying out of trouble. He’d given up so much to care for him, for ALL of them. At that moment something snapped inside of Janus as his body started to grow in size.

He easily filled the space below of the ravine he had moments ago been falling into. The heat and pain was so intense that he fainted, with a tiny Virgil still lying safely under his hand. An hour rolled by, before Virgil stirred awake and began taking in his surroundings. Yellow, warm, and soft? What had he landed on exactly and how was he perfectly okay? From what he could remember he had found a big hole in the Earth and was curious as to what was inside it. Then...he fell into it somehow? The now very confused side held his head as a distant, but familiar voice rang out in his head. Only to then be cut-off by the ground underneath him beginning to move.

“What the…”

He trailed off as his eyes wondered upwards to see a giant with hazy eyes looking down at him. OH SHIT! In a panic, Virgil slid down the side of the giant to hide behind some of the fallen rocks.

 He clasped his hands over his mouth and started counting down in his head to control his breathing. While the giant rubbed his eyes, none the wiser to Virgil’s stealthy escape.

“Where am I?” He groaned, working his way up to look around. “Some kind of ravine? Whatever, for now all I have is myself and that’s all I need.” Janus smirked as he walked away with a hum. Curiosity, now not so curious making sure the giant was gone before he made his way out and back home. All the while thinking how familiar the giant’s voice was.

--------------- Back to Current Time

Finally, he was here. The West side caves that Janus was hiding out in and enjoying his freedom ever since he destabilized. Virgil’s nerves started to wear on him as to what this slippery snake had planned for him. Had Jan started to remember his past now that the others' memories were coming back? Or was something else completely different going on?

“Aaaaaahhhhhh” A long groan came from inside, followed by a hiss of pain. The ground shook violently, but Virgil managed to make his way inside. The sounds of discomfort vibrating off the walls until he reached a large opening covered in lights. The interior was quite cozy for a cave. Leave it to Janus to make any location a perfect hide away. “You’re here!”

The greeting snapped Virgil out of his daze and back to the situation at hand. He’d refrained from increasing his size because he hadn’t come for a fight. “Deceit. Why did you call me here?” Virgil lacked information. He needed to see what Jan knew...what he remembered.

Janus bared his fangs with a toothy grin as he picked up his little guest. Luckily, no squeezing this time around. “Oh my dear little Virgil. Why do you think I called you here? I know you’re the one doing this to me.” This? What was he on about? “What do you mean?”

The smile vanished as his grip tightened around Virgil making it hard to breath. “Ah...stop please...Janus.” Suddenly, relief as the hand holding him relaxed. “That! Why are you calling me that?”

Virgil was still dazed from the lack of oxygen. He began wiggling his way out of the giant’s hand and rapidly began increasing his own size to match Jan’s. “You mean Janus. That’s your name.”

“No, no, no! My name is Deceit!” He banged his hand against the cavern wall as tiny items on shelves fell to the floor with a crash. “I don’t know who you think I am, but this is who I am!”

“No, that’s not true. Your name is Janus and you’re one of us. A side...a light side. There is no dark side Jan. Just you and me, and…and your family.”

“Family? Hahaha, what family? You LEFT ME! Remus left me. Everyone’s left...me.” The now sobbing Janus fell to his knees and wailed at the pain of past and present memories colliding inside his broken mind. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.” “And you don’t have to be Jan Jan.” Warm hands, familiar hands embraced him in a welcoming hug as he continued to weep.

“I’ve been having these dreams. Where, we’re all together in one house. I’m looking after you all as your big brother. Are these memories?” “Yeah, they are.” “Why didn’t I remember before then?” “It’s my fault. I’m so sorry Jan Jan. I-I was too curious and you got hurt trying to save me. You destabilized and turned into this monster in order to protect me!”

Virgil softly cried into Janus’s shoulder as he held onto him tightly. Fearing he may disappear at any moment. “I remember now. Oh Virgil, it’s alright. I forgave you a long time ago somewhere deep in my heart.” “R-really?!” Janus smiled and helped wipe away Virgil’s tears as they both stood back up. “I think it’s time I go back home to my family.”

Right as the two of them started to leave the caves the trio of fashionably late heroes appears on the scene. “Virgil! Oh my gosh Sweetpea are you okay?”

The exhausted giant waved down to his friends to show he was well and good. “Stand back from that scaly fiend!” “Roman, it’s okay. He’s started to remember.” “Remember? Do you mean to say he’s begun restabilizing?” Logan perked up curiously. “Yeah, though he’s not running a fever yet so I’m not sure when the process will st-”

Just then a hot wave started to bubble up inside of Virgil as he toppled over in pain. His face sweaty and pale. Janus was confused until he noticed himself shrinking. “What is this?!”

Between gritted teeth, “You all need to get away from here. I’m not completely sure what’s happening but I know it’s dangerous to be near me right now!” The group didn’t ask questions, they trusted Virgil’s judgement as they made their way quickly down the mountain. Meanwhile, Janus was shrinking fast and Virgil was crying out in extreme pain as his body grew rapidly. Soon he had reached his maximum height of 1000 feet, but he continued to grow. What was happening to him?

Once Janus had returned to the normal size of a human he too quickly got to somewhere safer than right next to a constantly growing giant. “Janus! How is Virgil? What’s going on?” “I’m sorry, I don’t know. I suppose if I had to guess he’s stolen my height and added it on to his own.” “He’s adding it on?” “Yes, but not in an exact manner. He’s already grown past 1000 feet, but adding mine on he would have stopped at 1070, but he hasn’t.” “How big is he going to get then?” Janus gulped as he looked back over to the mountain that Virgil’s new size was slowly consuming, “I have no idea.”

Virgil’s body now laid on top of the mountain as he could finally feel himself cooling off. More memories returning to him as his eyes focused onto his surroundings. He had grown to a whopping 5000 feet, nearly a mile high! Virgil quickly spotted the others not too far away as he reached down to grab them up. They were so small he needed to be extremely careful with them. Virgil then laid back against the mountain and smiled. He loved seeing more of his family together again.

The others were mesmerized by his tremendous size. Roman and Patton were definitely blushing as they called out to him. “Are you feeling alright now Darling?” “Yeah, I feel amazing honestly. Usually, I’m really scared and anxious when I’m so big, but this just feels so right.”

They all knew how much Virgil enjoyed being big and they were happy to see him comfortable, still they had to wonder why this happened. 

“Do you have any idea why this happened to you Stormcloud?” Virgil shook his head. He had no clue. “All I can say is that it was similar to the fever I had before, but it happened a lot quicker, so the pain was more intense.” “Then perhaps Janus’s restabilization was a catalyst of sorts.” “A catalyst?” “A substance that increases the rate of a chemical reaction without itself undergoing any permanent chemical change.” “Seriously Logan, not really the time for a chemistry lesson.” “True, but I think a secondary definition is in order. A catalyst can be a person or thing that precipitates an event. The person being Janus and the event being the increased growth of Virgil.” “Well, besides all the science talk...what does that actually help us understand?” “I’d need to do some tests and get more data, but my starting hypothesis is that somehow Virgil and his new stable form is linked to those who remain destabilized. That chaotic energy inside the body of someone unstable needs to go somewhere and I believe Virgil’s body has adapted in a way that allows him to absorb it. Thus his increase in stature.” “So he eats crazy energy?” “....yes Patton, Virgil now eats crazy energy.”

That was cool! Either way, that was one giant down and one to go. Although, for now it was time to head on home. There Virgil and Janus could both rest and in the morning he’d get an earful from Logan and Patton on protocol and house rules for him running away after finding a note from a crazy giant serpent man. Still, a good ending for now.

To be continued...

@crystalk17 @paranoidgurl @gentlegiantdreamer @suckedinfandoms @craz-ewaters @rainbowbowtie @pattonvirglsanders @enby-phoenix @sanders-sides-virgil @just-some-gt-trash @notkolaidoscop @bluegreeninbtwn @lgbtqiaemo @avenirunknown @ncanspeak @maryann-draws @himeperson @perfectly-princely-emo-nightmare @daydreamburritoworld @im-a-creepy-cookie  @radicalskatervirgil

[retroellie]

can you do an ellie x joel's daughter!reader headcanon or imagine? maybe like set during the first game when they are like first getting to know each other and bonding (and developing crushes on each other 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩)

Summary: Joel daughter’s falling in love with ellie 

A/N: UGHHH my heart melted at the thought of this, Thank you for requesting<3 Also i’m sorry i suck at writing Imagines and yes i did express my love for David Bowie, what about it?

Warning: None, just innocent teenage love :) 

Word count: 1.8K 

You watched her laugh, throwing her head back in a fit of laughter. Sam was telling her jokes he had heard and she laughed at every single one.  It wasn’t fair, you should’ve been the one making her laugh, you wanted to be the reason but Sam dropped in and whisked her away from you. 

You gripped onto your book, not able to concentrate on the jumble of words, too distracted by the laughter coming from the two of them. You weren’t used to feeling jealous, there weren’t too many people you felt jealous towards but this felt horrible. It felt like someone was hanging food above your head and you were starving but you were a few inches too short. 

You have been through hell and back, you saw your mom die in front of you, you have killed so many people that you almost feel numb to the feeling of it. So why did this feeling hurt so much, why did it feel like your heart was being stomped on. Were you finally at your breaking point? 

“Hey kiddo.” A voice interrupted your thoughts 

You looked up from your book, it was your dad. He gave you a comforting smile and plopped down next to you. 

“Hey dad..” You replied, He was bruised up from the group you guys had run into on the way here. 

“How are you holding up?” He asked, placing a hand on your knee. 

“I'm okay,” You said, your voice trailing off and your eyes lingering over the book hoping he wouldn’t read into your answer. 

You weren’t sure how to feel anymore, everything was coming at you so quickly that you haven’t had time to process it. New emotions that you didn’t even know you could feel and old ones that you feel too often. Grief, loss, jealousy... love? 

“How about you put that book down and get some sleep, huh?” He said, shutting the book. 

“I was just getting to the good part.” You chuckled, looking over at him. 

He shook his head and grabbed the book from you, setting it on a near table. He got up, allowing you to fully lay down. You rolled up in a ball, the coldness sending shivers down your spine. 

“I will never know where you get your smarts..” He joked, placing his jacket over you. 

You cuddled up underneath it, suddenly exhausted. You hadn’t noticed how you haven’t slept in almost 24 hours, you all had been on the move ever since meeting sam and henry only resting once through it all. 

“Get some sleep kiddo, you need the rest.” He smiled down at you, turning to leave. 

He walked to the other side of the room, next to henry. They were cleaning up after dinner, getting ready for bed. You looked over at Sam and Ellie once more, they both sleepily told stories and dreams they had. Your eyes had fallen heavy and you could feel yourself being consumed by sleep. 

-

-

-

You were asleep for a couple hours before you woke up, the quietness of the room creeped you out. You weren’t able to fall back asleep so you decided to get up and go read in the moonlight. You crept around the sleeping bags and backpacks that had been thrown around lazily. 

You found a comfortable looking windowsill you could sit on and opened your book. The book was some old book you found in a cafe you had been through, it was about a red headed girl that didn’t fit in and was just trying to find her way through life, find her purpose. You enjoyed it, feeling connected to the character somehow. 

“Can’t sleep?” A voice said from the darkness, causing you to flinch. 

You snapped your head toward the voice, ready to grab anything to protect yourself with. It was Ellie, your body relaxed a little bit. She chuckled at your alertness. 

“No, it’s too quiet here.” You replied, setting your book down. 

She walked slowly over to the windowsill you were sat on and took a seat next to you. She gave you a small smile, that tiny smile made your heart do flip flops. 

“Right, the QZ’s, they can be loud huh?” She said, turning her attention to the window. 

You’ve never had time to really study her face, you didn’t notice the freckles dotted across her face or how green her eyes were. She would be pretty painted on a piece of paper, with all kinds of greens and peaches creating a perfect masterpiece. 

“Would you ever go back?” She started. “I mean to a QZ?” She turned her attention towards you, her green eyes boring into your skin. 

“I mean I don't think we can go back to Boston. '' You remembered, you never really let that sink in. What the fuck were you guys gonna do now. “But even if i could, i wouldn’t.” 

She chuckled, she wanted to draw you especially right now. The moonlight brought out your eyes, making them more prominent and dreamy. She was afraid she would fall into them if she kept staring at them. 

“I thought i liked it at the QZ but now that i’m here i don’t think i ever wanna go back.” She looked back up at you.” it’s so pretty out here.”  You nodded, looking at anything but her eyes. 

“My mom really wanted to get out of the city.” You stated. “She and my dad always wanted to fix up an old farmhouse.” You smiled at the dream you all had, knowing now it will never happen. 

Your mom was always a fighter, hell she even died one, but she was a dreamer at heart. You were proud to be like your mom, she was the only person in the world who saw things in a different way, that was until you met ellie. 

“Hey,” Ellie attempted to get your attention. You gave it to her, looking up at her. “I’m sorry about your mom, she was a really good person.” You could tell she was trying to make you feel better but it was hardly working, but you just smiled anyways. 

“Thanks.” You chuckled. “You know, she was the only person who didn’t make me feel any less than others because of who I am. Now that she’s gone i don’t know what to feel.” 

Ellie remained silent, letting you talk and she actually listened. She was easy to talk to, you never really told anyone what you were feeling but of all the people you had met she just felt different. 

“That reminds me of my best friend riley.” She spoke, breaking the silence. “I’ve never really had a home or a family to love but she felt like both.” She fumbled with her fingers, her nervousness evident. 

“And where is she right now?” You asked. 

She fell silent for a minute, suddenly her nervousness dropped to utter sadness. You thought you said something you shouldn’t, not sure how to fix it. You just let her take her time, sitting there with her, the two of you alone... together. 

“She got infected.” She finally said. You could feel your heart break for her, the one person she had taken from her. Ellie was completely alone. 

You don’t know what came over you but you didn’t know what to do and you were so heart broken, so when you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close, it surprised both of you. You both stayed like that for a moment, the shock causing Ellie to freeze up but she soon melted into your arms. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer. 

She would be lying if she said she didn’t have butterflies in her stomach right now. You could stay wrapped in her arms forever, it was so warm and cozy something you didn’t feel a lot in this world.

You both stayed like that for a minute, not sure when to pull away. But you guys finally did and when you did you both were blushing up a storm. Ellie looked out the window once more, trying to cover her red face while you looked in the complete opposite direction trying to hide yours.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, you just seemed upset and I....”

“No no, it’s fine” she interrupted, looking over at you. “I needed it.”

You blushed even more, all the blood rushed to your face made you lightheaded. There was a deep nervousness in your stomach, the thoughts of you messing up your entire friendship with Ellie made you sick to your stomach.

The self-deprecating thoughts zoomed through your head, calling yourself every single stupid name there was. You didn’t want to mess what little you had with Ellie up, what if she doesn’t like you now??

“Y/N” she said, getting your attention once more. “When we get older and after they find a cure... let’s buy a farmhouse together.”

Your heart could beat out of your chest right now, you could die a happy death. All your worries about messing everything up melted away with that single statement. You smiled, looking down at your dangling feet. 

“As long as i can get a horse, i’m down.” You chuckled, leaning against the window. 

She smirked, watching your every move. There was a tension that arose that was never really there before, it wasn’t an uncomfortable tension. This was the first time you had ever felt calm on this entire trip, actually looking forward to the cure now. 

“What would you name the horse?” she asked, trying anything to keep the conversation going. She found she really enjoyed talking to you. 

“Hmmm.” You thought for a minute. “Bowie.” You said, smirking over at her. 

“Bowie?” She asked. 

“Yeah, like David Bowie?” You said, watching as her face contoured into confusion. “Like the singer?” You said in disbelief. 

“Doesn’t ring any bells.” She replied, a blush forming on her face. 

You shook you head, wondering how anyone could not know who David fucking Bowie was. Even through the apocalypse he was an icon. 

“Well then, I have so much to teach you.” You joked. 

She smirked, looking down at her hands. She knew she had some kind of feelings for you but this interaction just confirmed her feelings. She didn’t know what love felt like but she had an idea of what it felt like and it’s what she felt now. She could fall in love with you. 

“Can’t wait.” She said with a smirk, hopping off the windowsill. “Goodnight.”

You watched as she walked away into the darkness, when she was finally out of sight you let out a small sigh. Your stomach did turns and your cheeks hurt from smiling, you’ve never had a crush before. 

You weren’t sure what you felt towards her but you liked the feeling, it felt like what the authors described love in the 19th century. It was no other feeling like it. 

-

-

-

(Credits to gif owner)

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Alternative Ending

Warnings: Absolutely nothing except Charlie being one happy bean ❤️

Charlie

The spells making sounds around me finally snapped me back to reality. My back was aching but I knew I have to get up and fight. I won't give up that easily! Before I could think twice about it, I was already duelling another Death Eater. It felt good immobilizing him and the adrenaline of fighting slowly came back to me when I heard a voice calling me.

“Charlie.”

I turned around but nobody was there. I shook my head. Perhaps I was still a bit shaken from talking to Nova wherever we were together just moments ago.

“Charlie.”

There it was again. I pressed myself against a nearby wall, trying to empty my head. Was I hearing voices now?

“Charlie.”

The voice was getting louder and it seemed it was coming from inside my head.

“Charlie.”

I opened my eyes and sat up so abruptly that everything went dark for a moment. What is going on? I slowly scanned the room I was in.

I wasn't at Hogwarts, I was in a bed. My bed. I rubbed my eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. This is my bedroom.

I heard someone walking up the stairs. I looked down at my body. I was shirtless and my back wasn't aching. Was I dreaming? I couldn't be. It felt so real.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” I turned my head to the door and saw Nova leaning against the doorway. I was in awe at how beautiful she was. She was wearing a burgundy jumper with a golden letter on it. It was my jump... Wait a minute. It didn't have a golden C on it. It had a golden N on it.

I pressed my fingers against my eyes. I have never been more confused. I looked in her direction again. She was still there. Along with her jumper, her favorite khaki-colored jeans, and barefoot.

“I was about to send our little army to wake you.” She giggled. “Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah.” I said with a rusty voice. I was still a bit disoriented and apparently, it showed on my face because Nova's pretty smile turned into a worried expression.

She slowly made her way across the bedroom and sat down on my side of the bed.

“Is this real?” I asked.

“It happened again.” She whispered as if she was reading my mind.

It was strange. I knew exactly what she was referring to, but I couldn't shake the dream away.

“Yes.” I nodded. “But it...it was different this time, Nova.” I shook my head trying to get the images out of my mind.

“How so?” She asked gently, placing her hand on mine, sending shivers down my spine.

“It wasn't Fred or Tonks. It was...you.” I looked into her beautiful blue eyes and I have never wanted to kiss her more, so I did.

She let out a sound of surprise before kissing me back, placing her arms around my neck.

It was all coming back to me now. I had frequent nightmares about the battle that took place at Hogwarts. I kept seeing Fred and Tonks die. It has been happening for years, but I didn't have a vivid dream like this in a very long time.

“What was the dream about this time?” Nova pulled away and cupped my face, locking her eyes on mine.

“I dreamt about that night in the Sanctuary, when we were attacked. But it was different. You only cast the Protection spell on me and not both of us.” I shook my head, my mind creating images of her getting burnt again.

“Then I lived my entire life without you up until the battle. We had a funeral for you and I was alone at Bill's wedding. You weren't Fleur's bridesmaid and I told my mum I was going to spend the rest of my life alone.”

She climbed into my arms, pulling me into a hug. I buried my fingers into her hair and breathed into her shoulder. She smelled like pancakes.

“And then I was fighting at Hogwarts and you were never there to save me from that blast in the back and I fell unconscious and everything turned white and you were there. We were by the Lake and we both cried missing each other and when I got back I was ready to fight again but I kept hearing a voice calling my name and then...I woke up.” I gently pushed her away. I needed to see her eyes again, they always calmed me down.

“You have to see that doctor George was going to.” The concern in her voice matched the one on her face.

“I'm fine.” I said unconvincingly. After so many years of being together, I still didn't learn that she can see straight through my lies.

“Don't give me that, Charles. There is nothing wrong with needing help. We're all messed up about everything that went down that year.” She frowned.

“Okay, I'll write to George tomorrow. I promise.” I bestowed her with a weak smile and kissed her again.

“I'll ask you just in case.” She crossed her legs on the bed in front of me.

“No need to do that, love.” I playfully rolled my eyes.

“Yes, I do, Char. You looked at me, me standing in the doorway, as if I was a ghost. This dream obviously messed with your perception of reality so we are doing this, whether you like it or not.”

She tapped her finger on my nose, making me grin. She asked me a series of questions to make me remember things and make me forget about my nightmares every time I woke up disoriented.

“Okay, I'm ready.” I cleared my throat.

“What year is it?” She started.

“2007.” I replied after thinking about it for a second.

“Where do we live?”

“In Romania. Two kilometers away from the Sanctuary in a small wizarding village. We deemed it perfect for raising our children and it's great because it's close enough that we can both walk to work since neither of us is fond of apparition.”

“Describe our wedding and when and where did we get married?” Nova asked her next question.

“We got married on 7th August 1995 at the Sanctuary. It was a small ceremony as we wanted. Our friends from the Sanctuary, my family, your mum and aunt, your dad's closest friends from Egypt, our friends from school. You couldn't decide which of the girls is going to be your maid of honor so they all were. Ginny was our flower girl and Bill was my best man and he gave you away. We both cried exchanging our vows, so did our mums and Bill shed a tear even though he will never admit it.” Nova laughed. “We ended up having a party in our house and it all ended with Fred and George's beautiful fireworks.”

It was the most beautiful day of my life. We loved how everything turned out. It was small and everybody had so much fun and Bill and my dad got drunk and we laughed at them singing songs. We couldn't have planned it better.

“Full names of our children and when they were born.” She said with a smile on her face. This was her favorite question. “Aoede Io. She was born on 2nd February 1996. My mum freaked out when she found out you got pregnant before we got married.” I giggled.

“That one time we didn't use the Protection spell.” She joined me.

“I'm happy we forgot.” I pressed my forehead to hers and she couldn't stop a smile spreading across her face at my words.

“Then we had Luna Dora and she was born on 1st October 1999 and our beautiful boy Roger William was born on 30th July 2003. We were all hoping he would share his birthday with Harry but he came a day earlier.” We both chuckled.

“What day is it?” Nova's last question interrupted my reminiscing.

“It's 1st September.” I said proudly, feeling like myself again.

“Do you still think this isn't real?” Nova asked softly.

“It is but I am living my dream.” I kissed her again. I can't believe I have everything I ever wanted.

“As you should. You deserve it.” She kissed me so hard that I got dizzy for a second.

“Wait, 1st September, we're supposed to take Aoede...”

“I know. That's why I came to wake you.” Nova giggled. “You get dressed and then come down for breakfast.”

She leaned to kiss my forehead but a sound of glass breaking made us both look towards the door.

“Bloody hell.” I heard Luna say.

“Luna, mum's going to kill you!” Aoede sighed.

“For cussing or for breaking the glass?” Luna sounded worried.

“Both!”

“Dora needs to stop hanging out with uncle Ron so much.” Nova playfully shook her head. Our Luna loved Ron the most and she loved to copy everything he said, including his cursing words.

“I better go down before someone gets hurt.” She stood up and walked to the door. “You going to be okay?”

“I will. I promise.” I smiled reassuringly. I felt better talking to her and answering her questions. I always did.

“Oh, and I almost forgot. Bill dropped by earlier, leaving Victoire here. Luna made an entire plan inviting her for ice cream when we drop Aoede at King's Cross and then she's sleeping over. She sent her a letter with Aoede's new owl and everything.” Nova laughed and went downstairs.

I got up, the biggest smile on my face. This really was real. I have to write to George. I have to get rid of these nightmares. My life was so great, I can't have these dark thoughts about losing Nova anymore. It was enough that I lost my brother, Tonks, and Remus.

I got dressed and slowly made my way downstairs. I loved our little house. We were looking for something similar to our cottage at the Sanctuary and were so happy when we found a perfect little house on the outskirts of a village near the Sanctuary. We fell in love with it immediately. We both saw us raising our children here and it's so cozy and homey and we couldn't have asked for more.

What I loved, even more, was the scene in front of me when I got to the lower floor. A ladle was pouring a pancake into the pan. Nova was leaning on the counter giving Aoede advice on the drawing she was making. I still can't believe how similar they are. Not only did Aoede get Nova's talent for drawing but she looked like her as well. She had long, wavy, dark red hair and Nova's blue eyes.

“Good morning, dad.” Aoede mumbled and Luna followed her lead.

Nova looked up and winked at me, before picking up a pencil and making a correction to Aoede's drawing.

I looked to the sofa where Dora was sitting with Victoire, braiding her hair and them both giggling as usual. Luna Dora was a perfect mixture of us both. She had blue hair and my eyes. Her nose was sprinkled with my freckles and she got the mischief gene from the twins.

I was standing still, watching the two best friends giggle. Dora adored her uncles Bill and George the most. Sometimes she is more at Bill and Fleur's than she is at home because she and Victoire are inseparable.

“Good morning, uncle Charlie.” Victoire turned her head to me and waved.

“Morning, Vicky.” I smiled.

Before I could say another word my four-year-old son ran into my arms. I picked him up and lifted him high into the air.

“I missed you, daddy. You were asleep for so long.” He sighed and I couldn't help but giggle. He was adorable and he was mine. A spitting image of me. A face full of freckles, curly purple hair and...

“Make me fly like a Dragon, daddy.” And he loved Dragons as much as I did.

“Dee-Dee, can you set the table?” Nova asked our eldest as she waved her wand for the ladle to stop and I was twirling our youngest in the air, making roaring noises while doing so.

“I can't.” Aoede replied, frowning as she focused even more on her drawing. “I want to finish this before I leave for Hogwarts today, mum.”

“Alright.” Nova sighed, knowing full well she was the same when she was her age so she couldn't really complain.

We all sat down for breakfast and it was the most beautiful sight. Aoede was trying to find her mouth to feed herself and draw at the same time. Roggie was playing with his Dragon plushie more than eating, so Nova helped him because we both knew what a tantrum he would throw if anyone even tried taking his plushie away. Victoire was eating her pancakes with one hand leaning on the kitchen table as Luna started to describe her plan for today to us.

“And then when we are done with ice cream we are going to go see uncle Harry and aunt Ginny.” Luna finished, her mouth full of pancakes.

“Is Teddy going to be there?” Victoire's eyes shone and I exchanged a look with Nova, who had the biggest smirk painting her face.

She already predicted that Victoire and Teddy are going to end up together and I couldn't argue with her as Dora, Vicky and Teddy were best friends. And so far she has been right about everyone. She was right that Bill will find someone special. She was right about Hermione and Ron and about Ginny and Harry.

“Bill would kill you if he saw your smug expression right now.” I leaned towards Nova and whispered to her.

“Oh, c'mon. They are adorable.” Nova defended herself. “Bill is just an overly protective father.” She giggled.

“Yeah, even more than I am.” I laughed.

“Oh, you'll see when Aoede tells you about her first crush. I will bet my wand right now that you will be the same as Bill.” She bit her lip, trying not to giggle.

“Yeah, yeah.” I playfully rolled my eyes, knowing she was probably right.

“And someone has to make Teddy an official Weasley. Tonks would be proud.” She gave out a gentle smile.

“Tell that to Bill.” I winked at her and made her chuckle.

—

After a lot of effort and bickering and making sure Aoede has everything and we didn't forget anything, we finally arrived at King's Cross. I took Aoede's trunk to the luggage compartment, while Nova was making sure Di-Di had all her art pencils.

“Are you crying, Charles?” Nova nudged me with her elbow as we watched our eldest get on the train, waving at us.

“Says the woman with the handkerchief pressed against her cheek.” I teased her, wiping away a tear. I can't believe how good we have it. After everything we've been through, after losing my brother and some of our friends, after having 3 kids, we were still perfect.

We kept waving at Aoede, Roggie now in my arms as he stated that his legs were hurting, waving his plushie around at his big sister, until the train disappeared around the corner.

The second it did, Luna grabbed Victoire's hand and they started running towards the pillar that will take us back to Diagon Alley, both shouting 'ice cream ice cream'.

“You want to make a bet in which House Aoede will be sorted in?” I chuckled at Nova's question.

“We already went through this, love.” I smirked. “Di-Di will be a Ravenclaw, Dora a Hufflepuff and Roggie...” I turned my head to our son, booping his nose, making him giggle. “...Roggie will be a Gryffindor.”

“I am willing to bet 10 Galleons that Aoede will end up in Gryffindor.” Nova said mockingly. I knew she didn't really believe it. Aoede was a miniature Nova, despite her red hair, and she knew that there is no way she will be sorted in any other House than Ravenclaw but she was having too much fun playing with me like this.

“It's on, Mrs. Weasley.” I smiled and kissed my wife. As long as we were a happy little family, our children healthy, knowing they are safe and Nova looking at me the way she was now, letting me know she is just as in love with me as she was all those years ago when we were at school, I didn't care in which House our children get sorted as I knew we would love them all the same.

A/N: Okay, this really is it now! I can leave this story with a lighter heart and no more shedding tears!

Now I need some time to move on from this story and then I am ready to write more happy endings for our Dragon boy ❤️

Thank you again for reading and being so nice on this site ❤️

[vanillann]

ew, it’s the government (spencer reid x reader)

hi!! after thinking about this i’ll be taking out the acab from the masterlist (nothing changing in the plot line) just so it doesn’t feel like an aesthetic!!

warning: swearing, mentions of crime and sex, enemies to lovers

word count: 1.6k

ew, it’s the government masterlist

chapter 7: in the wise words of jane austen

“You know, I wish my tax dollars went to those stupid pot holes.”

I rubbed my head from where it slammed into the roof of Agent Reid's car.

“Sorry.”

HIs voice was sincere as he quickly jumped from the driver seat once we parked and ran to my side of the car. I nodded my head, stepping out and I followed him to the trunk to grab both our bags.

I kept quiet, still shocked he was being nice considering how rude and cold I’d been, but I suppose some people were just better than me in that department. I didn’t want to but it felt like the right thing in a sense.

I felt a light tap on my shoulder, drawing me from the twilight zone I had fallen into.

“Here my key, D6. I’ll be up in a second I need to help Ms. Anderson feed her animals”

He didn’t wait a second as he dropped the keys into my hand and began walking to an apartment here on the bottom floor. I quickly caught up, running through the glass door just as they were about to close.

When I had made it in he had disappeared, I simply shrugged and made my way over to the elevator. The light elevator music calmed my nerves and I found floor D and smashed the button.

The light music that rang throughout was oddly calming considering I was in an FBI Agents apartment. The guilt slowly was slowly reaching me, as I know I haven’t been exactly the most inviting and they might be trying to help, but I couldn’t but think back to my poor sister.

The ding broke me from my daydream, shaking my head and looking ahead to the short hall. I slowly stepped from the elevator and spotted the Agent in question leaning against his door, hand in pocket as he waited.

“How did you beat me?”

“I took the stairs, much faster and safer.”

I watched him eye the elevator, the way he looked at it like one of those evil guys they catch. I was going to make a joke, but I decided maybe I should get nice for a few moments, as he hadn’t done anything to me personally I suppose.

I handed him the eye, his hands pulled themself from his pocket and let himself unlock the door. He held it open for me, which I returned with another nod and walked into the apartment.

It smells exactly like the sweater I still wore, the green walls with many bookshelves were a nice touch if I would say. I slowly made my way over to the couch, not taking a sit but setting my bag on the leather vintage material.

The clean atmosphere of the apartment was nice, and reminded me of Jerick almost and how he would come into my apartment when I was showering. I wonder how Jerick was enjoying himself with Polly Pocket. I snapped, trying to refrain from nicknames.

That when I spotted a large zombie looking head hanging from his bookshelf, smiling to myself when I slowly walked to it and pointed to it.

“What’s this?”

I turned, finding that Agent Boy, Reid, was nowhere to be seen. I frowned, letting my bottom lip lock out as I made my way around the apartment, looking from a pillow and a blanket from a nice cozy spot on the couch for tonight.

As I was looking under the old TV stand, that didn’t have a TV, may I say, I heard my name being called in a panic. As I went to stand up I felt my head slam into the top, a headache already forming as I fell back on my butt.

I heard footstep hurry to where I now sat on the ground, the mauve color converse caught my eye.

“I- are you okay?”

I nodded my head, slowly nodding as I rubbed it a few more times before looking up to him. He bent down, grabbing my face in-between his fingers. I went to pull back but he kept a firm grip on my face.

“I’m checking to see if you have a concussion,” his voice was from, causing me to stop my struggle and look into my eyes. I felt suddenly unsure, wiggling slightly as he held his finger out and slightly asked from my eyes to follow it.

“I didn’t know you were that type of Doctor.”

Shut up (Y/N).

“Huh?”

He let his finger fall, waiting for me to explain myself.

“You said you were a doctor, it was supposed to be a joke,” I casually explained, trying not to embarrass myself more the longer I spoke.

“Oh,” he slowly nodded, pulling his bottom lip in-between his teeth, sitting on the floor across from me as awkward silence filled the room.

“It was a bad joke,” I slowly stood up, feeling the pain in my head but ignoring it as I stood up.

“Uhm, where are the blankets?”

He looked up at me, slowly pushing himself from the floor as he examined me.

“Why?”

“So I can sleep on the couch tonight?”

I pointed over my shoulder in the direction of said couch.

“Oh no, you can take my room and I can make a pallet on the floor.”

While the gesture was sweet I felt like it was unfair to push someone from their own bed, especially with the way I’ve been acting.

“No i-”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave you out of my sight right now, with everything I mean and it’s fine really. I’ve slept in more uncomfortable hotels.”

His eyes scanned me as he rocked on his heels, slowly waiting for me to respond.

“Okay that’s fine.”

I turned around uncomfortable with the eye contact, the anger inside of me boiling. He was nice, but the system he worked from was corrupt so unless he realized that he was just as bad as the rest.

I noticed the grocery store bag on the counter, something I had completely forgotten about. I felt bad for the way I acted but I guess my attitude had become a part of me, which didn’t excuse it but it was the truth.

“Are we still making Shepherd's Pie?”

“Oh uhm- yeah sure.”

I didn’t wait for him to get up and I made my way to the kitchen. I heard his phone ding but I ignored it as I slowly took things from the bag and placed them on the counter.

“Garcia can’t find anything about Jerick from up til a few years ago,” Agent said, coming to the opposite side of the counter to me.

“Look under Jennifer, it’s his deadname.”

Spencer said nothing as he watched me, my anger boiling waiting from him to say something.

“I’m sorry we didn’t know he was trans,” he spoke sincerely, something I was grateful for.

“I’m not Jerick so I can’t accept this apology but you have been nothing but respectful to him so I doubt he would mind.”

Spencer nodding, texting the tech girl back quickly.

“Why didn’t she ask him herself?”

“Wanted to make sure it wasn’t something we should be worried about,” he answered quickly, shoving his phone back in his pocket while placing his hand on the counter.

“Okay where is the recipe book?”

“I don’t have one,” he brushed it off, reaching over and grabbing a few of the ingredients from in front of me and placing them in the bowl. I unwrapped the crust, looking at him with bewildered eyes.

“Why not?”

“I read the recipe in a bookstore years ago,” he brushed off like it was nothing, I had forgotten he was like Jimmy Neutron or something.

He suddenly laughed, something that shocked me.

“I had a friend that made me dress up as him from Halloween,” he spoke with nostalgia, something I hadn’t seen on him before. I mean I’d only known him from maybe a day but still, it was weird to say the least.

“My sister loved that show,” I spoke softly, almost sad to even bring her up.

“You have a sister?”

“Had,” I was quick to correct him, somewhat mad but more so sad.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t ask, which I was grateful for, just putting the ingredients in the crust and putting in the oven, which was apparently already hot.

“I’m sorry I was impossible to be around,” my words had no emotion but it was enough for him as he accepted the apology and said he understood.

*

I put the last dish into the sink and made my way to the bedroom, the sweater he had let him borrow discarded as I now wore my own. My footsteps were light, most of the apartment dark as we both decided to head to bed quickly with a “long day ahead of us” as he said.

Dinner was awkward to say the least, barely any talking just sitting across from each other and eating. Maybe it wasn’t that awkward but without my talking I couldn’t distract my brain from the seriousness of it all.

There was a murderer out there looking for me, and I couldn’t even tell anyone why because I didn’t even know. It was only a matter of time before the kills got more personally, as they were mostly people I’d only known somewhat.

I slipped myself into the bed, careful of Reid who slept peacefully on the floor beside the bed, a gun in his hand as he “protected” me.

As soon as my back hit the soft nature of the bed all the tiredness left me, which was more annoying than the fact it was an FBI Agent's bed.

I tossed and turned because I don’t know how long before Reid started talking in his sleep.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune-”

I registered that the words were from Pride and Prejudice so I ignored the fact that he most likely wasn’t asleep and let the words bring me from this cruel world into another, only in my dreams.

criminal minds tag list:

@itsarayofsunshine @m-n-m @aquarius-pisces-rose @victomizedbyreginageorge @avaxreid @erinxneil @cclovesanime

spencer reid tag list:

@writtenbywolfie​

ew, it’s the government tag list:

@thatsonezesty13 @spencerslatte @pianofirepirate @ellvswriting @peterspickledpepper @erinxneil @friendlyweirdobaby @thatsastro @acambridge @spideyparkerstark @ameliamonster @thecraziestcrayon @hurricane-abigail @linthebinbag @m-n-m @reid-lover @drreidshands @l0ve-0f-my-life @avaxreid @baby-iyania @victomizedbyreginageorge @gubler-io @duskangxl @bonitaangel @koc-help @liaabsurd @achieveonyourown @non-binary-nightmare @crimeshowtrash @libradolan @sataninsatin @martinafigoli @randogirlo-fando-main

[markosmate]

gorgeous (baby blues ll)

pairings; paul x reader

summary; after waking up in a hotel room alone and beginning to find out what you really are, you go looking for the boys to get some answers. spoiler alert: you get more than you bargained for. 

warnings; strong language, use of weed

an:// i’m writing this note before writing this sequel to let y’all know that i for some reason had such a hard time trying to figure out what would happen in this but i finally got this idea so here it is y’all - the long awaited part two!! <33 (also i use babe way too much in this please forgive me,, other pet names make me highkey cringe)

Waking up the next morning was absolute hell. There was no other way to describe it. There was an overwhelming urge to drink something and it filled every vein in your body no matter how many waters you downed, nothing was making it subside. Besides that, there was a god forsaken pain in your chest that felt like it was dragging you towards something else. You couldn’t pin point where exactly it was trying to take you, you just knew you needed to go.

Trying to ignore how shitty you felt, you stood from the cheap motel bed and stumbled your way into the small bathroom. You were hoping a hot shower and some scented shampoo could get your mind off of the pain coursing through your body.

As you stood under the steaming water, you tried hard to think about what happened last night that could’ve caused this pain. The more you dug into your memory, the more came back to you in short flashes. You hadn't actually fallen asleep after David had told you to now that you think about it. It kind of feels like a conscious blackout, where you were still there when it was happening - yet it all happened in what only felt like the blink of an eye.

Flashes of memory came speeding back, almost making you topple over from the pounding headache that came with them. You vaguely remember sitting on the couch, leaning against Paul and drinking from a bedazzled bottle. The boys were all laid back - Marko smoking a joint, Dwayne reading a book, and David scanning through the stations on a radio. The next memory only consisted of you and Paul looking at each other and laughing as a snoring David with a sharpie mustache laid next to you both.

The last memory was short, but sweet. Paul and Dwayne standing with you as you checked into this very motel. "You could just stay with us babe." You remember Paul telling you as he held you close to him, rubbing the tip of his nose against your cheek cutely.

As far as you could tell from your memories, nothing too bad had happened. You’d gotten shit-faced with the boys, drew a mustache on David, and checked into this hotel after Paul and Dwayne drove you here. Nothing too shabby.

Until you stepped out of the shower and screamed at the top of your lungs. Why in the fuck could you see through yourself?

You just sort of stood there for a moment staring at the see-through reflection of yourself in the mirror. You could still see the general outline of your body, but it just kind of looked a cloud of mist.

You looked over towards the bathroom sink and spotted a pretty scented candle sitting next to the faucet. Just to make sure you weren’t going insane, you picked it up and held it behind your back, only to find out you could still see it.

"What in the holy hell happened last night?" You whispered to yourself, trying to pull your clothes on as quick as possible. You didn’t bother properly checking out of the hotel, you just wrapped your old clothes in a towel and hurried out to your motorcycle with the keys in hand.

You stuffed the clothes in your backpack strapped under the seat and you were off in an instant. "Are you kidding?" You growled looking at the sky. The sun was almost completely hidden under the skyline. "How is it already this late?"

You didn’t realize that you didn't really know what you were supposed to do until you were already speeding down the road. You didn’t know how to find the boys, you didn’t know who to ask about where to find them, and as far as you could remember you didn’t exactly know how to get to the cave from here.

After minutes of just aimlessly driving up and down roads, you decided that heading to the boardwalk was the smartest course of action. Hopefully you’d be able to spot them there, and if you didn’t then you’d just have to try and remember all the paths through the woods they had taken to get to the bluff.

The boardwalk was just as crowded as the night before, as you expected. The parking lot was almost completely packed and you didn’t really feel up to driving up and down the lines trying to look for a spot, so you took it upon yourself to follow the boys' lead and drive up onto the boardwalk - something with which you were almost sure was completely illegal. You swerved around multiple crowds of people, constantly looking around and over your shoulder to try and spot the boys. There was no sign of them or their bikes anywhere on the entire beach.

"This is fucking ridiculous, this makes no sense." You muttered, throwing your head back in pure frustration. To the woods you go then. You were absolutely livid that you were being forced to try and find this place once again on your own.

Now that you really thought about it, you couldn’t even really figure out why you felt the need to go to the boys about this predicament. Maybe it’s because you trusted them? Nah, it’s because you blame them for everything that has happened to you since you woke up. You sped down the beach, your bike tires kicking sand up in multiple directions as you angrily ranted in your head.

An indescribable thirst that wasn’t calming down, a pounding headache that had lasted a good two and a half hours at this point, a sharp pain in your chest that throbbed everytime you ignored the urges to follow it to where it was trying to take you, and your body was see through. There’s absolutely no way that they didn’t have something to do with it.

After at least an hour and a couple of wrong turns, you finally made it to the bluffs. You huffed out a breath of air that was nothing short of annoyance as you realized the boys bikes weren’t here either.

"Whatever, I’ll just wait here for them then." You spoke aloud to yourself once more as you killed the engine and walked the bike over to a section of sea-plants to hide it from view. You jogged down the stairs that led to the bridge, stopping halfway over to look out into the ocean.

You really wouldn’t mind staying here for good, after all the traveling you've done for so long it really wouldn’t hurt to finally call somewhere home.

However, you wouldn’t even think about making that decision until you found out what the hell had happened the night before. Once you were safely down inside the cave, you tried to cozy yourself up on the couch to ignore the horrible chill going through the place. They lived here, it shouldn’t take long before they arrive right?

Not even a half hour later, you heard the roars of the engines and the voices of the boys echoing down the side of the bluff. "I don’t understand, you guys dropped her off didn’t you? Where could she have gone?" You could vaguely pick up Marko's voice carried on the wind.

"Stop!" Paul's voiced suddenly came in a shout. He laughed giddily before you heard the pounding of footsteps down the stairs. "I can smell her!"

Smell you? How could he smell you from up there? Suddenly he emerged from the webs and drapes hanging around the opening with a large smile on his face. "Babe!" He grinned as he hopped down from the last step, the other three following quickly after him. "We were just out looking for you for like two hours!"

"Wow, wish I knew that before I went out looking for you guys." You rolled your eyes, pulling the blanket on your shoulders tighter around your body.

"How'd you find your way here so easy?" Marko questioned, leaning over to the radio to turn it up a little for some background noise.

"It wasn’t easy, I got lost six times." You replied bluntly as you kept an eye on Paul who was slowly scooting closer to you on the couch.

David snorted at you, moving to sit down in his wheel chair. You looked at him for the first time since they had come in and snorted right back at him once you noticed the fading mustache clumsily drawn on his face.

He immediately realized what you were looking at and shot you a sharp glare. "Don’t even think you’re off the hook for that."

"What?" You whined playfully. "It was Paul's idea." That was a lie, you truly had no idea who’s idea it was to draw it but you weren’t exactly interested in being at the receiving end of David's wrath just a day after meeting him.

"What?" Paul echoed, locking eyes with you with a small pout playing at his lips. "Don’t sell me out like that, babe."

You giggled at him, for a moment completely forgetting that you were supposed to be mad at them as soon as your eyes locked with his. You caught yourself quickly, cutting your laughter short and turning to look at each of them sharply. "I didn’t come here to laugh." Your resolve broke halfway through and you couldn’t stop the smile from coming to your face once you spotted Dwayne hiding his quiet laughs behind the sleeve of his jacket. "I came here for answers." Your whisper came soon after.

"What kind of answers?" David mumbled, inhaling from his cigarette and slowly letting a cloud of smoke out after.

"What happened last night?" This caused the smirk to slowly come back to his face. You continued, not letting yourself become deterred from his standoffish attitude. "I woke up feeling like absolute shit. I mean, some weird thirst that I couldn’t crave, a horrible headache, I can see through myself! What the hell did you guys do?"

"Nothing you didn’t agree to." Came the leader's genius reply.

"I didn’t agree to anything." You snapped. "What did you do?"

"Listen babe, you drank some blood, joked around for a while, we played some pranks, and I drove you to that motel while Dwayne got your motorcycle from the boardwalk. That’s all that happened. Honest." Paul held out his pinky towards you. You looked at him skeptically before raising your pinky to wrap around his.

"Promise?" You mumbled, not shying away from him as he leaned towards you a little more.

"Promise." The smile he sent you was almost enough to have you falling for him instantly, until his previous words clicked in your head. You roughly shoved him away from you, standing and frantically backing away from all four of them.

"What?" You almost screamed looking at them with a building fury hidden in your eyes. "What the fuck do you mean I drank blood?"

"Calm down sweetheart, you’re being kind of over-dramatic." Marko mocked with a lazy smirk on his face. Dwayne shot him a sharp look before turning to try and console you.

"Calm down? Is this some sort of sick joke?" You began hyperventilating. Whose blood did you drink? Why did you willingly let them give you blood? How does that explain anything that’s been happening to you?

"Okay, I know this looks bad. Trust me, baby, I know. Please come sit and we'll explain everything to you alright?" Paul grabbed onto your wrist gently and led you back over to the couch as Dwayne crouched in front of you and began trying to help direct your breathing back to normal.

"Good?" The brunette checked after a few minutes.

You nodded, leaning back against the couch and wrapping your arms around yourself. "Yeah... thanks." He nodded in acknowledgment before pushing himself into a sitting position, waiting for the other two to sit themselves in a circle so they could all explain it to you as much as possible.

"Yeah, you drank blood. My blood." David explained shortly, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray on one of the side tables.

You tried to stop yourself from jumping up and attempting to strangle him, feeling budding frustration build at his lack of explanation.

"Why?" You forced out through gritted teeth, keeping your eyes locked directly onto the platinum blond's.

"To put this shortly, and hopefully get this over with soon, we’re vampires. I'm the head. You drank my blood, now you’re a half vampire. You won’t be a full until you make your first kill. Do with that what you will." And with that, he stood, turned, and made his way into another hallway that stemmed off of the main room.

"I- I just- what... what does that even mean?" You cried out looking in between the three remaining vampires. “Vampires? Y’all are vampires?” Dwayne just shot you a small sympathetic smile before ruffling your hair and making his way into the same hallway David had gone.

"Don’t worry, kitkat. You said you were wandering didn’t you? Have been for a long time? This could be your home, if you want. With us." Marko grinned at you and you slowly felt your resolve fading away.

Okay, yeah, they did turn you without your permission. But, you’d been looking for a place to call home for so long. Yeah, they were vampires. You think? And you were almost a full one like them, so would it be that bad to call these boys, this place your home? You didn’t think so.

"Maybe." You smiled a little, lifting your eyes from your hands to look around the cave for the second time in complete awe. "I do like it here. A lot."

"Yeah, and like Dwayne said last night. You felt a pull to stay here, Santa Carla is where you were meant to be." The curly blond spoke once again, leaning back on the couch with his arms crossed against his chest.

"Why though? Surely you must have an answer for that. If you knew about it, then you must know what it is." You tilted your head the tiniest bit, looking between the two boys sitting next to you.

"The mating bond." David's voice echoed in the main room as he came in from the hallway. He held a small box of records in his hands, setting them down next to his wheelchair as he began sorting through them to find the right one.

"The mating what now?" You snorted, moving to lean your head against Paul's shoulder. He tensed for a moment out of surprise but leaned right back onto you once he realized what you were doing.

"That pull you feel. It’s a mating bond, common in vampires - but not all have them. You feel it now, you’ll feel it a hundred times stronger once you become a full." David explained, finally finding the track he was looking for as he grinned in triumph.

"So what you’re saying... is I’m attached to this place? In a mating bond? And I’ll feel it stronger once I turn?" You were completely and utterly confused about the entire thing and it only became more confusing when all the boys began to chuckle.

"Not the place cutie." Paul teased, moving to massage your shoulder a little bit.

"So... one of you?" The question came rolling off your tongue before you could even think about the possibility.

"Bingo." Dwayne came strolling in, shooting a finger gun in Paul's direction. You immediately caught on to the action, turning in your spot to lock eyes with Paul.

"You?" You whispered, gaping at him as he nodded with a happy grin adorning his face, teased hair bouncing with every movement of his head.

"Right on, Y/n." It was the first time that he called you by your actual name, and it dawned on you how important a mating bond must be to a vampire.

"So you can feel it stronger than I can?"

“God, you bet he can. Felt it as soon as we drove onto the boardwalk last night." Marko chuckled, biting at his thumbnail.

"Only reason we went into max's video store." David explained, twirling his bracelet around as he talked.

"Wow, okay. That’s a lot to take in." You mumbled, moving to lean into Paul more as he fully wrapped his arm around your waist - much more comfortable in being physical with you now that you knew the truth.

"But... you’ll stay?" Paul asked.

"And change?" Marko threw in.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I will." You grinned at them all as they all cheered, Paul laughing into your ear as he pulled you into him tightly.

As the other three began celebrating the newest addition to their little family, you turned to look at Paul only to realize he was already looking at you. You mirrored his smile as you looked into his pretty blue eyes, trying to dig deeper and catch a glimpse of what he was feeling. In the end, you just ended up whispering to him.

"Can I kiss you?" His face lit up and his free hand came up to cup the side of your neck, his thumb grazing softly over your jaw.

"Hell yeah, you can." And his lips met yours in the middle. This is where you were meant to be, you finally knew where you were being pulled to all along.

[nightskyhoseok]

You’re My Christmas Present // PJM

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Genre: Fluff, Established Relationship

Warnings: just a brief mention of sex and Jimin being a lil’ perv (staring at the booty)

Word Count: 2.5K

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

The cold air rushed through your front door as you and Jimin stumbled into your house, small clumps of snow falling from the sides of your boots and onto the hardwood floor below. 

“Baby, close the door! It’s so cold outside,” Jimin whined, sculpted flakes of snow falling from his red beanie. Quickly, you shut the door, the flow of the freezing winter air stopping in its tracks, the warmth of your home beginning to take its place. As you looked back, you could still see the grey sky through the door’s glass pane, a flurry of snow falling from overhead. 

“Goddamn, I’m freezing. I hate winter so much,” You groaned, still feeling the lingering sensation of winter’s touch against your skin. Jimin, who had begun to take off his coat, smiled at you with flushed cheeks.

“Come here, let me warm you up,” Jimin offered, stepping toward you to pull you into his embrace, only to jump at your cold hand against his. “Oh my god, your hands are so cold!” Despite his words, he still leaned down to press a kiss to your nose. “Ah, your nose too!”

“What, you don’t like my cold hands?” You teased, reaching out to touch the back of his neck, causing him to yelp and raise his hands in defense. 

“No no keep your hands away from me! It’s too cold!” Ignoring his protests, you laughed and began to place your hands all over his bare skin, earning whimpers of annoyance that devolved into laughter from your boyfriend. “Stop, Y/N!”

Jimin suddenly grabbed you by your wrists and pulled you toward him, ceasing your movement. Without warning, he leant down and captured your mouth in his in a short, sweet kiss. 

“You know what you need right now? Blankets and pillows.” 

“We could just have sex to get warm,” You shrugged, shooting a playful smirk at Jimin.

“Okay, yeah, we will do that later, but I think right now you need some hot chocolate,” Jimin hummed, wrapping his arms around your waist when you tried to pull away and turn around. “No no no going back out. We’re staying in this afternoon.”

“But I have to buy a present for my co-worker Doyun-”

“Ugh, don’t even waste your time with him. He got you a Peanut M&M dispenser last Christmas, you don’t need to get him anything.” Jimin smiled and tilted his head, looking down at you with a certain softness to his eyes. “Besides, I have plans for us today, and it starts with some hot chocolate. Come on, into the kitchen we go.”

You immediately groaned in protest, but Jimin simply ignored it and pulled you into the kitchen to prepare two mugs of hot chocolate. While he was waiting for the milk to warm up, he whisked together the cocoa and sugar, then looked back at you, his hands still moving.

“Did you get the decorations?”

“Yep, they’re in the living room,” You nodded, pointing to a plastic container box filled with Christmas decorations.

“Good.” After a few minutes, Jimin had finished the hot chocolate and poured it into two separate mugs, handing one to you. “And here is some creamy hot chocolate just like you like.” Then, from behind his back, he pulled out a bag of marshmallows. “And marshmallows. Jumbo sized.”

“Jimin, these are way too big!” You huffed, holding the bag over the mug to see if even one marshmallow could fit.

“No, they’re not too big. They’ll melt,” Jimin dismissed, but you just threw him a steely glare. “Come on, you know this, Y/N. How many do you want- hey!” Not even a second later, you had opened the bag and began to eat the marshmallows. “Stop eating the- what are you- those are our hot chocolate marshmallows!” Jimin huffed and snatched the bag away from you, setting it down on the counter. “I thought we were saving our appetites for dinner.”

“I can deal with having a few marshmallows,” You said, batting your eyelashes innocently, immediately making Jimin give in. 

“Okay, fine! Here, one more for you, and one more for me. There.” Jimin dropped one more marshmallow into both your mug and his own mug. While he had turned around for a moment, you reached over to the bag of marshmallows and snuck one more out. “Hey, I see you sneaking the marshmallows.”

You snapped your hand back to your side and looked off to the side, avoiding eye contact with Jimin who was laughing at your antics. 

“I wasn’t sneaking anything,” You mumbled.

“You idiot,” Jimin giggled, shifting his mug into one hand to cup your cheek with his free hand. He pulled you closer and pressed his lips against yours, smiling against you as he pulled away. “Come on, it’s decorating time. You can bring the bag of marshmallows.”

Eagerly grabbing the bag, you followed Jimin to the living room as he opened the plastic container and pulled out a string of curtain fairy lights. After tucking it under his arm, he grabbed your hand and began to pull you down the hall, confusion suddenly striking you.

“Wait, where are we going?” You asked.

“Your room,” Jimin answered, looking back at you with a half smile. “I thought that, um, we could decorate the living room later.”

“Why do we need to decorate my room?”

“Have you never decorated your bedroom before?” You shook your head, and Jimin nodded, licking his lips for a moment. “It’s cool. You get to put these up.” Jimin looked down at the lights under his arm. “Ah, what are they called? Fairy lights or whatever. It makes the place look all nice and warm and cozy. And, uh, maybe a little bit romantic. So when you’re lying in bed at night, you’ll feel super Christmassy.”

“I don’t think that’s a word, babe,” You snickered. Jimin just rolled his eyes in response as you both entered your room, only to be greeted by a complete mess covering the floor.

“Oh my god, jagi, why is your room so messy?” Jimin gawked, letting go of your hand to tangle his fingers in his hair.

“Hey, it’s not that messy!” You growled, picking up a balled up shirt to throw it at him. “What, you’re gonna demand to decorate my room and then insult it as soon as you walk in? You are a cruel man, Park Jimin.”

“I’m just saying! There’s like clothes and stuff on the ground and- what is this?” Jimin cut himself off as he bent down to look into a half-open box, but you shouted for him to get away.

“Hey! Don’t touch that! Just turn around while I tidy up a bit.”

“Okay, okay. I’m not looking,” Jimin laughed, turning around as you began to pick up your old clothes and books from the floor, putting them back where they belonged. You looked at Jimin for a second, and you almost swore you could’ve seen him turned around.

“Are you peeking, Jimin?” You questioned in a disappointed tone. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not peeking.” Jimin shook his head, letting out a little laugh of disbelief at your childlike behavior. “Can I look yet? Have you tidied up everything?”

“Give me a second.” After a few more items, your room was definitely more presentable and you scanned over your now clean floor with a sigh of relief. You then turned to Jimin, who was still turned around, his eyes shut tightly. You snuck up in front of him, then stood on your toes to reach his lips and give him a quick kiss. His eyes fluttered open and he looked down at you with a small pout.

“Hey, you can’t sneak kisses in like that. It’s not fair,” Jimin huffed, but his demeanor changed in a second when he pulled you into a tight hug. “You’re so much warmer now.” Jimin pulled back slightly and placed a light kiss on your forehead, a smile creeping onto your face from his gentle touch. “Alright, jagi. Let’s see, how are we gonna put these lights up?” Jimin picked up the bundle of fairy lights he had set down on your desk, along with his hot chocolate. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” You sighed, looking around the room for any ideas, Jimin doing the same.

“Well, there’s an outlet right next to your bed, so why don’t we hang them up on either side over your bed?” Jimin suggested with a slight smile. “That work?” You shrugged and nodded, Jimin cheeks rising along with his lips as he kissed your temple. “Alright, princess. Do you want to put them up?”

“Sure.”

You took the lights from Jimin and loosened the wires while he dragged over your desk chair against the wall. Carefully, you stepped onto the chair, carrying the lights up with you.

“Here, be careful, jagiya. Don’t fall,” Jimin whispered, his hand on the small of your back. When you turned to look at him, you wobbled slightly, but Jimin’s hand kept you steady. “Wait, let me hold you.”

Jimin gripped either side of your hips, his grasp tight to ensure that you wouldn’t fall. You glanced at him with a questioning look and a slight laugh leaving your mouth.

“What are you doing?” You asked, a little suspicious of his darkening eyes.

“Nothing!” Jimin laughed, his eyes squinting. “I’m just making sure you don’t fall down.” You kept glaring at him, but he huffed and pouted slightly. “Why are you looking at me like that? I’m just holding you still, cutie. This is for… uh… support.”

“You’re so stupid.”

“Just put the lights up. Gosh, I’m not even allowed to enjoy the view,” Jimin groaned. You laughed and turned around, reaching up to hang up the lights. A minute flew by and the left side of the lights were hung up. “Okay, let’s do the other side.” Jimin helped you down from the chair, his hands still on your hips. You placed your hand on the chair and threw him an inquiring look.

“Should I bring this with me?” Jimin nodded and he dragged the chair to the other side of the bed, preparing to lift you up when you spoke up. “Do you wanna do this one?”

“No no, you can do this one too if you want,” Jimin encouraged.

“Why?” You asked, drawing out the sound of the word.

“Uh, because it’s your room.”

“You sure you’re not just trying to look at my ass again?”

“What? I’m innocent, so innocent I would never even think of it. It’s your room, you put up the lights, right?” Jimin said with an angelic smile and a small eyebrow raise.

“Mmm, whatever you say.”

“Alright, cutie. Up you go.” Jimin once again helped you up onto the chair and kept you steady with his hands as you put up the right side of the lights. “Are you ticklish when you stretch to put the lights up?”

“No,” You scoffed.

“Really? Not even if I do this?” Jimin suddenly began to attack your ribcage with his fingers, pushing a squeal out of you. You slapped his hands away and glared at him.

“Jimin!”

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop,” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.” Thankfully, Jimin didn’t tickle you again and you were able to finish putting up the lights. Your boyfriend helped you off the chair and patted your head lightly. “Come on, let’s see how these look. Go turn off the lights and I’ll plug these in.”

You nodded and walked over to the light switch, flipping it so the ceiling light turned off while Jimin plugged in the fairy lights, bathing the room in a warm, yellow light. Jimin made his way back over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“Wow, that looks so cool. Do you like them?” Jimin asked, looking down at you with a toothed smile.

“It looks so cozy,” You commented, nodding.

“Do you wanna lie down? Maybe take a break while we drink our hot chocolate and enjoy the lights?”

“Alright.”

You both grabbed your hot chocolate from the desk and laid down on the bed, setting your mugs on the bedside table so you could hold each other. Your limbs were tangled underneath the covers, and Jimin’s arms were snaked around you, holding you close.

“It’s so comfy and warm in here,” Jimin hummed in contempt. 

“I know. I never wanna leave,” You added, nestling further into Jimin’s chest.

“Same, I never want to get out of bed.” Jimin placed a kiss on your head and petted your hair slowly. “Something about this time of year just makes me want to hibernate with you. Especially when I’m at work. Probably a good thing that we’re so busy, because then when we spend time together like this, it’s even better.”

Nodding, you just nestled into him further, your nose pressed against his neck and your arm resting on his waist.

“You’re so warm,” You breathed, fluttering your eyes shut.

“Yeah, I’m a super warm puppy right now,” Jimin laughed. He raised his head slightly then spoke in a quiet voice. “Hey, these lights were a really good idea. They’re really pretty.”

“Yeah, they are,” You agreed, opening your eyes again to look at the lights above your head.

“Can I tell you a little secret though?”

“What?” You looked back at Jimin, whose cheeks were painted a light pink.

“Come closer.” You inched closer, but Jimin shook his head. “Closer.” Once again, you moved closer, yet Jimin scoffed and pulled you closer. “Closer.” He stared into your eyes, the golden light of the fairy lights reflecting in his mocha eyes, dazzling like embers. Then, with a smile, he whispered against your lips. “You’re prettier.” He then kissed you for a transitory moment, tugging on your bottom lip as he pulled away. “You’re also a marshmallow thief.”

Laughing from embarrassment, you just shook your head and sighed. “I’m sorry. I was craving them.”

“Don’t worry, we have a lot.” Jimin kissed you again, then pulled you against his chest, his fingers playing with your hair. “You know, something about spending Christmas time together is so nice. I feel like I’m the luckiest man alive this year.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because, I have you for Christmas. It’s like I already got my present. I got the best present that I could ever wish for, and I haven’t even been a good boy this year.”

“No, you definitely have not, especially with all of that jacket falling from your shoulder bullshit,” You laughed, earning a small giggle from Jimin too. 

“Still, thank you for being my best Christmas present that I ever had,” Jimin whispered, nestling his head into yours.

“No problem,” You smiled, cutting yourself off with a quiet yawn.

“You tired?” Jimin asked, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes.

“A little.”

“Close your eyes and I’ll wake you up in a bit, jagiya.” You nodded and closed your eyes, letting your body relax when you felt Jimin press a kiss to your forehead and whisper one last thing to you. “Merry Christmas.”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

shoutout to that one person from Reddit who said they got an Peanut M&M dispenser from their mom for Christmas even though they were allergic to peanuts - that’s chaotic evil energy right there

Masterlist • YouTube • Instagram • Discord

[kienava]

~~i stayed up til 4 am and wrote beauyasha and i regret nothing~~

When the Nein return to the tower, Beau finally has a chance to read Yasha's poem.

Awkward conversation ensues in a room full of flowers.

_______

how do i wake my spirit cold? [AO3 link]

It had taken Beau a solid three reads to convince herself that this poem was actually real, not just something that her cold-snapped brain had imagined for a fleeting sense of warmth. She’d gone from staring at the words blankly to reading slowly, scrutinizing the angles of each letter, and on her seventh read she’d discovered that it was impossible to tear her eyes off the piece of parchment in her hands. This was now the eighteenth time in a row she’d scanned over these four lines, though she’d long since memorized their contents. At this point, she was less reading a poem and more gazing at a painting. Its beautiful simplicity hit all at once, like a thin blade between the ribs.

Many months ago, Beau might have guessed that Yasha’s handwriting would resemble her intimidating appearance, or maybe even her fighting style: sharp and strong, rough strokes and firm lines. Now, the slight, slanted script on the page came as no surprise, not when Beau had all but reached out and touched the soft edges hidden under layers of rage and anguish - and shawls. Yasha was big on shawls.

Eventually, Beau knew, she would have to put this piece of paper down and stop reading, but her hands and eyes had yet to consider that idea for themselves.

Her breath stayed steady despite her sparking nerves, years of practice kicking in to steady her. After she folded that piece of parchment up, what could she possibly do? Sleep? Not a gods-damned chance. The tower was safe and still, much unlike the thumping in her chest. As skilled as she’d become at controlling her lungs and diaphragm, the ability to keep her heart calm eluded her.

She knew it was a symptom of something that she’d avoided addressing for as long as possible, a creature that would longer allow itself to be pushed off and locked up. Beau had done her best to drown it alive when she’d learned why Yasha pressed her own heart between the pages of a book to desiccate along with torn petals and broken thorns. Loving dead flowers left little room to tend a new garden.

For all Beau’s attempts to do otherwise, she kept coming back to this, perennially doomed to weather the most apocalyptic storms.

In an effort to inspire some new consideration besides poetry, Beau let the paper flutter onto her desk and took to the fighting post. She’d been curious to see how adaptable the tower’s contents really were, and she’d asked Caleb for a variety of weighted staves to train with in this rendition. She grabbed the heaviest one from its mount on the wall. Maybe if she exhausted herself by whaling on the fighting post, she’d be able to fall asleep sometime in the next several hours.

As soon as she started swinging, it was clear that her plan would be fruitless. Her muscles could go on autopilot and run through routines she knew deep in her bones, and she’d built up too much stamina fighting gnolls and ghosts and undead sea monsters to tire herself to the point of genuine exhaustion.

Despite all of her mediation training, she couldn’t shut her brain off. She’d been in research mode for weeks now, mind racing constantly to piece together theories that somehow sounded less and less wild the more their group trekked on. Even while sparring with this helpless post, she exerted more effort willing herself not to sit back down at her desk and scour between the grains of the paper Yasha had given her for clarity and truth.

She made a last-ditch effort at meditating, sitting in the middle of the room with her legs crossed, counting her inhales and exhales. It was the first technique Dairon had taught her, the simplest form of breathwork. The goal was not to control or influence the breath, but to build awareness of one’s natural pace without judgment. At the time, Beau laughed at the possibility that she could go a second without judging (herself or others). But she'd changed so much since then.

She felt herself smile, recalling a conversation from what felt like ages ago.

Thank you for not judging me, Beau.

Have you seen me? Who am I to fucking judge?

I’ve seen you. I’ve seen you a lot.

Was that it? Was that the moment that the harmless flirting had developed its own sense of gravity? That Beau had suddenly found herself tongue-tied during their most superficial conversations, yet secretly hoping for even the briefest moment alone together?

Without intention, her breath had started to line up with the endearingly crooked meter of the poem repeating infinitely in her mind. She inhaled through one line, then emptied her lungs by the end of the next.

Each time she ran through that short stanza again, more questions frayed out like a string splitting endlessly. None of the answers she sought could be found in the library. She’d only need to go one floor down, not two.

All distractions exhausted, Beau considered knocking on someone else’s door instead of seeking the one stamped with lilacs, but she couldn’t come up with a good reason to do so. Veth and Caleb would be together, huddled in front of a cozy fire and having one of those intense conversations meant only for them. Caduceus usually went to sleep early anyway, and he’d eaten a whopping dinner. No way he’d still be up. Fjord had taken up his own meditation practice, and far be it from Beau to interrupt that. Jester - well, that was just a bad idea. If Beau mentioned the poem (and there was very little chance she’d be able to talk about anything else), Jester might just drag her down to Yasha’s room and throw her through right the door.

If Yasha could be brave, so could Beau. In fights, that was the very thing that pushed her to go as hard as she did. She knew that Yasha would be there to pull her out of a giant lobster claw if her risks didn’t pay off. They had each other's backs, always.

Would that still be the case when neither of them held a weapon in their hands?

Only one way to find out.

Beau opened and closed her own door as quietly as possible. Jester had some kind of sixth sense when it came to Beau’s interactions with Yasha, and Beau really didn’t want to explain anything when she wasn’t even entirely sure what was going on herself. She whispered the command word to the lift and sank slowly to the next floor down. She was careful to keep her knock quiet, though it probably wouldn’t wake Caduceus. No promises that Jester wouldn’t somehow hear it, no matter how thick Caleb claimed the walls were.

There was a long beat before Beau heard footsteps. Her stomach flipped - had she woken Yasha up? Normally she relied on some burst of brash confidence to start a conversation, and it had already taken her nearly an hour to build up the courage to step into the hallway and onto the lift. This was too different from the casual check-ins and mid-battle flirting that had happened more often in recent weeks, and Beau forgot every normal greeting she knew when the lilac-emblazoned door swung open.

She only had one thought: “Yasha.”

“Goodnight, Beau,” Yasha said. Quickly, she added, “Not goodnight like ‘goodbye, you should leave.’ Goodnight as in good morning. Like a greeting, I mean.”

“Ha, yeah. Goodnight, I guess,” Beau replied with a little wave. This was going about as badly as possible. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, no, no. I was just - well, I cannot read Zemnian, but those books Caleb gave us have very nice covers.”

“Yeah, they’re cool,” Beau said. She had an opening here. Might as well take it. “Speaking of reading...”

Yasha raised her eyebrows.

Beau tried to swallow the dryness in her mouth. It didn’t work. “I checked out your poem.”

“Oh, you did?” Yasha asked.

“You sound surprised.”

“Maybe a little.”

Beau wasn’t sure where to go with that, and all she could come up with was a stilted laugh.

Yasha joined in with her own quiet chuckle. The way she bit her lip, lost in thought, made it clear that she was just as much at a loss for words.

This was a bad idea. Beau hadn’t been thinking straight, obviously, when she’d come down here with a million questions and no plan for how to ask them.

“Okay,” Beau said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “I guess I’m gonna--”

“Do you want to come in?”

Beau blinked. “What? I mean, sure. Yeah.”

Yasha stepped back from the door to open it wider, and Beau stepped inside the flower-laden room for the first time since Caleb’s magical mansion tour.

The door settled shut behind them, and they were left standing in the middle of the bright, colorful blossoms.

“So,” Yasha started. She didn’t go on.

“Nice plants,” Beau commented, nearly smacking herself across the face for it.

Fortunately, Yasha smiled at that. “Caleb really thought of everything for this place.”

Beau’s mind flashed to the mirror mounted above her bed, and for the first time in many years she had to remind herself to breathe. She was more than getting ahead of herself.

“Anyway,” Yasha said, drawing out the end of the word a little more than normal, “what brings you down to the fifth floor?”

“Ah, just got lost on my way to the kitchen, thought I’d swing by,” Beau tried.

Every time Yasha let out even a small laugh, Beau counted it as a win.

The most concrete question burning in Beau’s skull was rooted in something ugly and frightened. She asked it anyway. “So did Jester put you up to that?”

“It was her idea, yes,” Yasha admitted.

“Oh,” Beau said, not quite catching her voice from cracking.

“I shouldn’t have said that. She only helped because I asked.”

“So it was your idea?”

“Not quite. I don’t think. Not the poem thing, specifically. I told her I wanted to...do something, for you, and that is what she suggested.”

Beau fought against the urge to convince herself that those words could mean anything other than what she wanted to hear. She’d been jumping through flaming mental hoops for weeks, maybe months, trying to talk herself out of this. And then Yasha had the pleasant audacity to write her a poem.

“No one’s ever done that before. For me,” Beau reiterated. She held her hands up. “Hey, I’m no expert, but I thought it was dope.”

“No, you didn’t,” Yasha dismissed.

“No, I did.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

Yasha busied herself by stroking the petal of a nearby flower with her thumb, a small smile creeping in.

“Why’d you write it?” Beau asked. 

Yasha’s fingers stilled. Her gaze stayed fixed on the flower in her hand, and her slight smile grew.

“Do you have a favorite flower, Beau?”

There was the answer Beau wanted to give, and then there was the truth. In the dense quiet, the latter won out. “Not really. Kinda wish I did. Do you?”

“I think...” Yasha gently plucked the flower from its stem. “I think they are all my favorite.”

“Really?”

Yasha nodded, cradling the flower in her palm.

It was, quite possibly, the happiest Beau had ever seen her. She suddenly wished that she knew the name of this plant, of every plant in the room. If something could bring Yasha such tranquil joy, it was worth knowing. 

“The ones in this room are from all over. I’ve never even heard of some of them,” Yasha said.

“Caleb probably read about a thousand botany books just for this.”

“Probably,” Yasha laughed.

“Come on. You’ve gotta have a favorite,” Beau pushed, in the back of her mind hoping that she could use the information for future reference.

Yasha shook her head. “My book...I was keeping it for Zuala at first, but I think I am also keeping it for myself now. I want to remember the places that I’ve been and the things that happened there. Because those things have brought me here, and I am very happy about that, even if some of what happened was...not so happy. I would not be here, with all of you, without every single one of those flowers.” 

She held her hand out, presenting the plucked flower. Beau stared at the five long, carefree, white petals, tinged with a sunshiny yellow at the tips. Slowly, she reached out and was surprised to find the petals were rich and soft like velvet. She couldn’t recall ever seeing it before - maybe it was from Xhorhas.

“And,” Yasha met Beau’s eyes, “finding new favorite flowers to add to my book does not mean I forget the old ones.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Beau agreed.

“This one reminds me a lot of you, actually,” Yasha said, almost whispering to herself. 

Beau felt her heart skip. She’d never been given a poem before, and she’d certainly been compared to something so delicate and precious. She wracked her brain for something witty to say, but she’d never been very good at that around Yasha. “It does?” she choked out.

“It grows in the desert,” Yasha explained. “It's very stubborn and strong. We called it Sunsbane. Even with very little water, it survives the hottest days. The buds stay closed for many years, but the plant stays strong. The roots grow deeper than you’d ever guess just from looking at it above the surface. It can take a long time, but when the nights get cool enough, the flowers finally bloom.” She paused, sweeping her hair behind her ear. “You probably didn’t come here to hear so much about plants, though.”

Beau could very well have been in the desert herself at the moment - her mouth went dry again, and she felt like it was about a thousand degrees in that room.

Untrusting of her own ability to form words after that, she lifted the flower from Yasha’s hand, then reached up and tucked its short stem back where Yasha had fixed her hair.

“Hey,” Beau managed.

“Mhm?”

“You can tell me about plants anytime, alright?”

“Alright,” Yasha returned. “Okay.”

Beau retreated a step, realizing how close they’d been standing. “White’s kinda more your color, though. Plus, the yellow really...your eyes, it - works. Looks nice. Um, goodnight.”

There was a strange look on Yasha’s face, like she was thinking too hard.

“What?” Beau risked asking.

“Just that...I didn’t answer your question yet. About the poem.”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s cool, honestly--”

“Beau.” Yasha said her name so softly that Beau had no choice but to stop protesting.

Yasha took the flower from behind her ear and clutched it to her chest. “You should know that I like this flower very much.”

So much of Beau’s old self - the person who’d just tried to leave again - wanted to bolt for the door, but her new self locked down and stood her ground. Inhale, exhale. “I think it likes you, too,” she said weakly.

Yasha waved her hand, still holding onto the flower. “Jester said some things, and I - well, I don’t know. I didn’t think I should hear them from someone else in case they weren’t true or--”

“They are,” Beau jumped in. “I don’t know what she said, exactly, but I can guess.”

“How do you mean?”

“Like I tried not to for a while. And then that became more impossible than it already was. Just like Sunsbane, I guess. Deep roots, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Yasha said suddenly. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Not that I - I wasn’t expecting anything. You’ve surprised me in a lot of ways, is all.”

Beau couldn’t handle the guilt on Yasha’s face. It wasn’t her fault, everything that had happened to her, to them. Beau would’ve waited a thousand days in the desert if it meant letting Yasha heal and find herself.

The gap between them had shrunk again, somehow, but it was more unbearable than ever. It felt like every time they got closer by half, always lessening the space but never quite meeting. But Beau was very good at breaking things, and, for once, she could break something for good. Her palm met Yasha’s cheek, fingertips curling around a small braid hanging loosely.

“You said those flowers are pretty damn patient, right?” Beau said.

Yasha nodded almost imperceptibly, like she was afraid Beau’s hand would pull back.

“Then I think you have nothing to apologize for.”

“Still.”

“Well,” with much less confidence than she’d hoped for, Beau asked, “you gonna kiss me or what?”

Yasha’s eyes closed for a moment, her expression neutral save for the slight crease between her brows and the subtle part of her lips. When her eyes opened again, her gaze was angled down slightly, plotting a trajectory that Beau had hardly dared to dream of.

“You’re sure?” Yasha said softly.

Beau’s answer was no more than a breath of a laugh.

Yasha went on. “I just want to make sure that you are sure. I’m very sure, at this point, but that doesn’t mean that you have to be--”

Beau cut her off as gently as possible.

For a moment, Beau’s mind went blissfully blank.

Then it hit her. She was kissing Yasha.

It started soft - not tentative, but quiet.

And then, miracle of miracles, Yasha was kissing her back, and she was much less patient. She was lightning and thunder striking at once, a storm raw and deafening in its power. Beau wondered when her knees would give out under the sheer weight of it - until solid arms circled around her waist and pulled her in.

Desperate to hold onto something, Beau’s fingers wound into Yasha’s hair. Her other hand was trapped just below Yasha’s collarbone, grasping tighter until blunt nails scraped past a cloth edge and found skin.

Maybe Beau did have a favorite flower, after all.

***

[mycroftinthemindpalace]

6, 20, or 44: choose whichever one inspires you :)

Prompt request from @daggery: I went with 20 - “D..did you just make that noise?” There’s a good chance I’ll come back to the other ones too. Thank you! 

“Coming through!” Mal yelled, loudly enough that if the two students up ahead did not get out of her way and were run over, it was their own fault. Fortunately for everyone, the two kids dove in opposite directions seconds before Mal barreled down the staircase. She had spent way too long with helping Jane practice her spells, and she was definitely going to miss lunch, and if she missed lunch, there was no way she could get through an hour and a half of science that afternoon. They were doing lab, and the smell turned her stomach when it was full. On empty, she’d probably pass out, and Mal would die before she’d let that happen.

Two more floors to go before she reached the bottom, then a quick left turn out the door, a brisk run across the courtyard, and lunch was hers. She was pretty sure they were serving pasta today, and Hades help everyone if there was no pesto left by the time she got there.

“AAHHHH-EEEEEEEE!” Mal froze with half a staircase to go. Mal was used to people shrieking, but not in Auradon. If it were Jane or Melody, she’d have cared, but not stopped. If it were Audrey, she might have turned back just to laugh, but that girlish squeal had not come from very far away.

In fact, it had come from her dorm room, which meant it was Evie, which meant Mal was probably going to miss lunch because the piercing scream had not even ended before Mal was turning on her heel, darting back up the stairs (bumping into one of the two students who were not quick enough this time to avoid her), and breaking down her dorm room door.

She panted, out of breath in the doorway. Her eyes scanned the room for some signs of trouble. The window was closed, there was no blood on the ground, no shattered glass in sight.

As a matter of fact, there was no Evie in sight either.

The only thing out of place in her dorm room was the tall, brown-haired boy in a leather vest, standing on her bed, pressing himself against the wall, his eyes darting wildly around the floor.

“Jay?” She asked, closing the door behind her gently. Jay’s head shot up. Upon seeing her, his wild eyes stopped moving. Like a chameleon, his face changed rapidly from white to slightly green to dark, dark red. “D..did you just make that noise?”

“What noise?” His question would have been far more believable were it not asked two octaves above his usual pitch. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Uh, what noise?”

Mal set her backpack down. “The loud girlish squeal that just came from this room.”

Jay scowled. “I don’t recall any such noise being made.”

“Did you yell?”

“...yes. In a manly fashion.”

Mal smirked. “I’m pretty sure you shattered two downstairs windows with that note you hit.”

Jay’s shoulders relaxed as he slouched down the wall and plopped onto Mal’s bed, sitting cross-legged and cross-armed, and pouting like a three-year-old. “Did not,” he muttered.

“So what made you squeal?” Mal jumped up next to him and mimicked his posture. His lips twitched in a very obvious attempt to keep from smiling.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

Jay hesitated, his eyes flickering back to the floor. Mal followed his gaze, then reeled backward as he jumped to his feet and adopted his previous position at the head of her bed, wide-eyed. He raised a shaky finger and pointed. Mal turned and caught the tail end of a tail, bolting across the room and beneath her dresser.

“A mouse?”

“Get it out get it out get it OUT!” Jay yelled, his voice rising once more. Mal stuck a finger in her ear.

“Chill, dude.” She hopped off the bed, grabbed Evie’s yardstick off her design table, and swept it underneath the dresser. The mouse raced out and ran directly into Mal’s backpack, perfectly positioned at the dresser’s end. Mal zipped it quickly, shot a wary glance at her friend, bouncing from foot to foot and wringing his hands in front of him. “Be right back.” And with that, she was out the door.

Jay immediately collapsed on the bed, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. He released a breath he had not realized he was holding in, and closed his eyes. The hellion was gone, but now he would have to deal with Mal. Mal’s mocking, Mal’s laughter, Mal’s incessant questioning as to why Jay, son of Jafar, had turned into a sniveling, trembling coward at the sight of a white rodent half the size of his hand.

He’d been nine, and Jafar had been angry. He’d brought back a lamp, thinking it might please his father and make up for the otherwise pathetic haul he’d gotten that day, but Jafar had taken the lamp as a personal insult. It was an ordinary lamp, one that might sit on a bedside table and plug into the wall if the Isle had any electricity to light it, not the kind from Jafar’s story. Of course, Jay didn’t know the difference, not then. When he’d proudly presented it to his father, Jafar had sneered. He’d called him stupid, and useless, and he’d broken the lamp over his head and kicked him out.

“Come back with something of worth or don’t come back at all,” his father had said, right before he locked the door.

Something of worth. What the hell did that even mean? To Jay, a pair of shoes that still had soles, and a sketchbook for Mal were things of worth, but to Jafar they were trash. He knew because Jafar had told him so. He’d been working for his father for four years at that point, and he still didn’t know what would earn him a place at the dinner table and what would be thrown back at him. There was no point in trying to figure it out either; what Jafar deemed worthy changed on any given day. And that day, Jay determined, nothing would please his father. Might as well find himself a dry place to sleep and try again in the morning.

There was a storm that night, and Jay was cold. The alley would be filled with goblins and rascals also looking for shelter, and Jay knew better than to sleep when they were around. The wharf was out too; he’d stolen a medallion off Harry Hook last week, and he doubted that the pirate had forgotten.

That left the woods. Jay crept through the muddy undergrowth until he found a shrub big enough for him to slip in. It wasn’t cozy, but there weren’t any thorns and the bush had kept the grass mostly dry. There was even something soft there for him to rest his head on. His head hurt from where the lamp had hit it, and it didn’t take him long to fall asleep.

He slept well, better than he usually did on the nights Jafar kicked him out. He dreamt he was in a castle, not a dark one like Mal’s, but one that was brightly lit and stocked with food he’d only seen on TV. He licked his lips, again and again.

And then woke to find that it was him who was licking his lips, but a fat, white mouse.

Jay screamed. He screamed and knocked the mouse off his face, and then flung one from his shoulder and pulled one out of his hair. He scrambled out of the bush, away from the woods, and back to Jafar’s shop. He ran in, even though his father had not yet granted him permission, and tore of his clothes as he went. Only later, when he went to retrieve them, did he find another mouse huddled in his sweatshirt pocket.

Jay shivered at the memory. He could still feel them, pulling at his hair, pawing at his clothes, licking his mouth. He ran his hands up and down his arms, trying to pull himself together before Mal returned.

She didn’t say a word when she came in, just shrugged her backpack off and pulled an apple out of her coat pocket. She held it out to him, and he accepted, taking a bite that was way too large for his mouth, but if he kept chewing, he didn’t have to talk. She’d brought one for herself as well, and pulled out her sketchbook as she ate. She balanced it on her knee, keeping it tilted at just the right angle so Jay could not see what she was drawing. Probably him, standing on her bed, screaming in terror. He internally groaned.

“Mal,” he started as soon as he’d finished the fruit. “About the mouse. It’s...”

“The spawn of the devil,” Mal said without looking up. “I would have killed it, but I figured there was, like, a 60% chance that it was related to one of Cinderella’s mice, and I never would have heard the end of it if I’d murdered Jacques second cousin or whatever.”

Jay blinked. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

She snapped the sketchbook closed and stuffed it back in her backpack. Hopping off the bed, she held out a hand to him. “Walk me to chemistry?”

He smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

They were halfway there when Mal asked him if he’d ever considered going out for choir, noting that, if his tourney dreams didn’t pan out, he’d make a great soprano.

[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.08

On a Pedestal

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 6,019

Warnings: mentions of sex, language, angst

A/N: I know I just released one last night but here’s another one. I will wait before posting another chapter at least a day in between so that I can respond to all of your lovely comments. I read each and every one of them and I appreciate them so much! Enjoy and let me know what you think! xoxo

His Majesty comes to you again that night. And the next. And the next.

For two weeks, every night, his Majesty climbs into your bed. He’s grown softer in that time and his touches are kinder. He throws in a caress every now and then but the act is over quickly and though the discomfort is all gone now, you feel nothing more than his now familiar stretch, the heat as he releases within you, and then he’s up and gone before you’ve caught your breath.

It doesn’t even hurt that he leaves you. It’s routine.

You feel no rejection anymore. You sleep.

Finally, at least you can sleep.

In fact, you oversleep. You sleep for almost twelve hours every day and Nat grows increasingly worried.

“How are you feeling?” She’s wrapping you up in your thin white robe which clings and turns sheer as the residual water from your bath left on your skin is soaked up.

“I’m fine.” You follow after her, looking over her shoulder as she rummages through your wardrobe.

She moves dress after dress aside before she stops on an orange and white number with florals stitched into the voile skirt. The waistline is broken by golden ribbon with orange tails of the same material as the bodice that hang to the right side of your waist. Golden vines have been embroidered up and down along the long white sleeves to match those mirrored on the bodice.

When she turns, she bumps into you with a small ‘oof’.

“Your Majesty,” She laughs as you take a step back.

“Sorry.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” She checks again, holding the dress over her arm.

“Yes.” You smile at her, a real smile. You feel better. “That’s a pretty one.”

“It should be, you’re meeting with Steve today.” She explains and your heart suddenly clenches.

“What?” Your hands are clammy, your heart is pounding. Your lungs are suddenly struggling.

Why are you so anxious?

“His Majesty has asked me to get you ready. He will give you a proper tour of the castle and then he will discuss with you your duties as Queen. You’ll be with him all day.” She smiles as if this is a good thing.

And yes, okay, you’re a little excited you get to spend some much-needed one-on-one time with him. Maybe he’ll finally open up to you? It is depressing only seeing him when he comes to lay with you.

You’re not exactly sure what to do now that you’ll have to try and connect with him again though.

“What do I say to him?” You ask her, nervously dropping your robe as she moves to you with your underdress.

“What do you-?” Nat stops, hands spread between the dress as she stares at you with confusion.

You hold your hands out to her and she snaps out of her thought to slip your hands in the sleeves and then lead the underdress over your head.

She’s thinking very fast as she dresses you and doesn’t answer your question.

Once your outfit is complete and she’s got you sitting in front of your vanity to brush and do your hair—she puts an orange ribbon through it and then braids your hair around it—she watches your face as she works.

“Hasn’t Steve been coming to you at night?” She asks.

“Yes.” You reach out to pull over a small box which you open to find several rings inside. Some of them are simple gold and silver bands. Others have gems.

Your eyes are drawn to two thin bands; both are silver. One is a weave of two thinner bands that loop around each other like lattice work, the other is a very thin silver band with a small perfectly round blue gem.

You slip one onto your forefinger, the other onto your middle.

They feel weird.

“Then why don’t you know what to talk to him about?” She asks, looking as if she already knows the answer.

“What do you mean?” You nearly chuckle.

“Well, don’t you talk when he comes to see you?”

“No.” You finally meet her emerald eyes in her reflection. “He comes in, wakes me up sometimes when I’ve fallen asleep, he sleeps with me, sometimes he’ll lay beside me for a bit, but then he gets up and leaves. He’s never in here for more than an hour. At most.”

You take off the rings and put them back.

“So, he’s not even trying.” Nat says, not a question.

“I suppose he’s doing his best.” You tell her. “I didn’t marry him because I thought that he’d fall in love with me.”

You turn your eyes back to the box and open it again to look at the jewelry inside. You reach up to fidget with your necklace, tracing the star with your finger.

“I’d…I’d hoped that maybe he might have come to like me, but I didn’t know just how much he was still in love with Margaret.” You shrug, meeting Nat’s eyes again which stare at you with a sorrowful sympathy. “I have a good life, Nat. Before I came here, I worried about whether I would go to bed hungry or whether Martin Argus would come to my cottage to try and steal my virtue again. I was unprotected and alone and poor and…now I’m the Queen of a prosperous kingdom. I have jewelry that I’ll never wear and dresses that cost more than I could have earned in six months with my stitching.

“I’m not alone anymore. I have you and Peter and Bucky and…even his Majesty. I have a husband and hopefully soon I’ll have a baby. I’ll have my own family. I had nothing, Nat. Now I have everything.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“This is the garden. There are flowers of various types but we’re missing quite a few from the Southern countryside. Most of the ones we do have were grown by hired gardeners but that little plot just beyond the fountain is off limits.” His Majesty points across the cobbled path, over the teal waters of a limestone fountain, across the Snapdragons in varying shades of pinks, yellows, and purples, to a pavilion made of dark stones, deep oaks, with a sturdy slate roof.

Inside the pavilion is a bench with pale yellow cushions and a small table. Large blood red gerbera daisies surround the base and sit in a large vase to the left of the stairs that lead up into the cozy space.

You don’t have to ask why that spot is off limits.

With an ache in your chest you move around the fountain, staring at the gazebo you’ll never sit in until you’ve put it out of sight as you wander further into the maze of beautiful foliage in his Majesty’s massive garden.

It’s very structured. Most flowers kept together in various displays. It’s pretty but it lacks charm. There’s no real theme. Just flowers planted in a very orderly fashion.

His Majesty follows behind you. You walk until you reach a peach stone wall then turn to move down along a row of violets. The smells in the garden are sweet and rich. They saturate your hair and clothes and the breeze that flows in over the walls of the garden feels good.

“You won’t ask me why that pavilion is off limits?” His Majesty suddenly asks.

He’s speaking a bit more quietly. Intimately. There’s no one around but you and him so his easy volume feels personal. Peter stayed by the arched gateway to give you two some time alone. Nat and Bucky have no doubt snuck off for a bit of time alone themselves. You lost both of them about an hour ago when his Majesty took you through the enormous library on the second floor.

“In fact, you’ve been very quiet throughout the entire tour.” He observes.

“I have nothing to say.” You tell him. “And I don’t have to ask you why that place is off limits. I know, without you needing to say.”

You’re a little miffed and maybe you’re not as good at hiding it as you hoped.

“Margaret always spoke her mind.” He says, unknowingly driving a small nail through your chest.

You have only yourself to blame. You’d gotten enamored with him before you married him and only more so since. Even after he’s hurt you several times, you can’t find it in yourself to care less although you’ve gotten better at not showing the hurt.

“Tell me why you’re so quiet.” He asks, it’s not an order.

You turn to look at him and the sight of him nearly kills you. He’s heavenly in his primary blue tunic, white stitching highlights the fine fabric. His black undershirt and trousers draw focus to the pleasing way he fills it all out. His hair is still long and full, flowing yellow strands in the afternoon breeze.

And those eyes. So focused, so blue.

If you didn’t know better, you’d say that he can see right through you, but you know it’s the other way around.

What is he expecting you to say? That you’re disappointed? That you hate his castle? He’s made sure to point out the flaws of the architecture when he can, and he pointed out to you the lack of foreign language books in his library. He complained about the small size of his throne room and the room where balls and parties are to be held is too narrow.

The balcony where the musicians are to sit and play is too high up to truly enjoy the music, and the kitchens have a surprising amount of mold in its storage and the cooks seem to only cook the same things over and over.

He’s tried to get you to complain about something since the moment he began to lead you around and you know that he’s looking for fault in you. Something has to be wrong with you, he’s sure of it.

So, you give him what he wants.

“I haven’t said much because I don’t understand how someone with so much can find room to complain.” You stop and turn to face at him, meeting his eyes with all the courage you can muster. “You say that your stores in the kitchen have too much mold? There were four other closets above ground that most of that food could be moved to. A simple fix if you really wanted to remedy the problem.

“You said there isn’t enough variety in the dishes your cooks serve but I ate stale bread and cold beans for most of my life when I was in that school for my emotional problems so I don’t really see how you can complain about roasted chicken, pies, and cakes.”

“You said that your castle is crumbling on the first floor but the school I went to had a large hole in its roof. It was always too cold in the winter and too wet in the spring. I caught several colds and still have a little trouble breathing when it gets too humid.” This isn’t a complete lie. You did get sick often at home and you do still have trouble breathing but the condition didn’t develop in this fictional school that your father is supposed to have sent you to.

“Personally, I have never seen so many pretty flowers and if there is one flaw that I see it’s that you keep them all separated. For this garden to be truly beautiful you need only mix them in together. Then your garden will look like the Gods have blessed you with a small bit of heaven. It already smells wonderful here. How you can want more…?

“And if it’s a fault that you’re looking for in me, I can’t read. That’s why I didn’t say anything when we were in the library. You wish you had more books in foreign languages, but I can’t even read one in my own tongue. I can’t write. I received no lessons in history or arithmetic at my school.

“Your life of privilege…it’s a blessing, your Majesty. One that is not bestowed upon many. That’s why I’ve bee-”

“Tony sent you to a school where they didn’t teach you to read or write?” His Majesty interrupts, moving a step closer to you as his brow furrows with his frown.

His takeaway from the little speech you just gave surprises you and you open your mouth to respond but can’t find what to say.

“How often did you get sick?” He asks, stepping closer.

You blink, frazzled, heart pounding. “I…Enough that I struggle to breathe at times. It’s not uncommon. Most of those that I went to school with developed the same symptoms.”

“Does Tony know that you struggle to breathe?” He wonders, reaching out this time to place his hand around your arm showing a surprising amount of concern.

It’s throwing you and you can’t seem to think straight.

What is he doing? What is he saying? Why is he touching you?

“Wha-? I um…No.” You finally say. “He doesn’t. Didn’t. I was only back with him for a week before I came here to be with you, he had hardly any time to reacquaint himself with me.”

This is making Tony sound worse than what he really is. This isn’t right.

“But I hid it from him.” You add, hoping to remove some of the taint. “Every time he visited and when he came for me, I tried my best to present him with the daughter he deserved and not the one he was given. It’s not his fault that I was born broken.”

Steve frowns, sliding his hand down to your elbow before he releases it. “You’re not broken.”

He moves around you, rounding the corner and giving you a moment to catch your breath.

“Are you coming?” He asks, and you quickly follow.

He waits until you’re beside him and this time he walks with you.

“You’re right about my privilege.” He nods. “Sometimes I forget how good I have it here. Things are stressful. Being King and having responsibility over so many people isn’t easy. The stress of that can dim the brightness of what makes this life good. I didn’t mean to make you feel as if I were looking for a flaw. I just wanted to-”

“Yes, you did.” You cut him off, looking straight ahead as he turns to watch you. “I know that you don’t want me. I know that if you could trade my life for Margaret’s you would, and I think trying to find something very wrong with me helps you feel better about all of this. About having to marry me.

“I don’t want to replace your dead wife, your Majesty. I would never presume to think that I could. But I will do my duty. I will give you an heir and then I will step out of your way. I know that’s what you would prefer.”

He stays silent.

He doesn’t deny it.

He thinks as you walk, moving deeper into the garden until the only sounds you can hear are the shift of the wind, the twittering of birds, and the soft buzz of bees somewhere in a tree nearby. The soft hiss of both your feet as you step along the sparse cobbled path is mesmerizing in its repetitive nature.

“How did she die?” You ask him, fearful of upsetting him but you’ve been dying to know.

“Nat hasn’t told you?” He asks, surprisingly calm about it as he stops just as the two of you reach a small area, closed off with a stone bench nestled beside a pond where small fish nip at the surface as tiny flies land for a drink.

“I didn’t want to hear it from Nat.” You explain, moving to sit on the bench. You’ve been walking all day, up and down stairs without much of a break.

His Majesty watches you and when you’re seated, he moves to sit beside you, shoulders slumped as he stares at the pond and the purple, wine, and yellow irises that surround it.

“I don’t want to learn about you from someone else.” You continue.

He’s quiet for a while and the two of you sit in silence. You don’t interrupt whatever train of thought he’s on and he finally sighs.

“She fell off her horse.” He says, shaking his head. “It was nothing, at first. A swollen ankle. A small bump on the head. But she’d cut herself on a rock when she fell, and we didn’t see it right away. She didn’t feel it for a few days. By the time her fever set in, we were already too late.

“The infection spread. It did its damage and it took her from me.” His Majesty bites his lip, miles away from you back in the past. His eyes darken.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper, afraid to disturb his grief.

“It’s a stupid reason to die.” He mutters darkly.

Then, as if he hadn’t been talking about her death, he moves on.

“You’ll start your duties tomorrow. You’ll visit the poor for an hour every day. Maggie used to pick a single day and visit for longer. She was very kind to those less fortunate. Maggie used to host the ladies at court for a while every day as well, and once a week she threw a small dinner for the ladies and their husbands.”

He looks at you, up and down as if assessing you.

“We probably shouldn’t do that until you can at least read.” He spits, maybe more aggressively than he means to.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, ashamed at your lack of education.

“Why are you apologizing?” He asks, upset. “You didn’t do it to yourself. Tony’s the one that should have made sure you were receiving a proper education. He throws you off to that school and then acts like you’re not even a part of his family for so many years then throws you at me so that you’re my problem…Maggie wouldn’t apologize for her circumstances. Stop apologizing.”

You shrink as his tirade lengthens and you look away, fearful that he might see the way his anger affects you.

“Maggie used to be up at dawn. I expect you to do the same. You’ll get lessons in the morning and in the afternoon, you’ll make your visits. On Fridays we receive the people to address their concerns. I expect you to be at my side every Friday. No exceptions.” He orders and then rises.

You make to get up, but he turns to look at you, is that contempt? It’s something. Not good. You’re not sure what.

“Stay out of that pavilion.” He warns. “And never bring up Maggie again.”

He leaves you sitting there, shaking and wondering why you’d had to open your mouth and ask about Margaret. Next time, you’ll just ask Nat.

You do as you’re told.

Your days all start to look the same.

You wake up, bathe, dress, eat breakfast, go to your lessons for four hours, have lunch, then you leave the castle to visit the poor. And that’s where you stay until Nat has to pry you away.

At first, you’re scared to get involved. You don’t remember any nobility in your father’s kingdom coming to visit but you were slightly better off than these people. You help them cook and you help them clean up the small homes they live in.

You aren’t a doctor and you can’t help in that sense but you can at least help make their living spaces cleaner.

Most of them remind you of your own little cottage only theirs seems to be falling apart at the seams.

When you realize how little money it costs to help make their homes a bit better—new roofs, patched floors, new lumber to reinforce walls and ceilings—you give up your own allowance to help get it done.

Fridays—since it’s the day of your shortest visit—are the day you dedicate to bringing them as much food as you can.

His Majesty had already started the practice of giving away food that isn’t eaten to the poor, but you take it a step further and set up locations around the castle city for donations of foods about to expire.

Many people donate when words gets out that the new Queen has started this new program.

With the influx of food, the poor are able to eat more regularly. It lightens your heart and you feel more at ease when you lay your head on your pillow at night.

Despite being able to see him more often during the day while you go to your lessons and then help him on Fridays with his people, it’s at this time that you spend the most time with his Majesty.

At night, he comes to you, when you’re on the brink of sleep after a tiring day.

For a while after your tour, his Majesty had only come in and done his deed, then left. Sometimes he would sit with you, ask about your day, but say very little himself.

Tonight, he sits at the end of your bed but doesn’t look at you.

You sit up, startled by his hesitance. By now he’d be on top of you, getting this part of his and your duties over with.

“My king?” You probe, staring at the taut lines of his back.

“Why are you staying so late in the villages?” He sounds tired, like he’s had a long day too.

Is he going to be mad at you for staying late?

“They need so much.” You explain. “I’ve been helping them with their mending. The children need clothes. The women also lack proper garb. Their houses were falling apart and the cost to help them is so little-”

“Is that what you’ve been using your allowance for? That money is so that you can get what you need.” His Majesty counters.

“I don’t need anything.” You laugh a little, just a small chuckle. “I have more dresses than I’ve ever had in my-”

Shit…wait…no. You were a princess. You are rich. You’ve had lots of dresses. Or so he thinks…

“-than I’ve ever had need to wear.” You quickly recover and hope he doesn’t realize your slip.

What would he do if he found out you were common? Just as poor as the people you help every day? Margaret was of noble birth. She deserved to be Queen.

“I have no need for anything else.” You assure him.

“Take some time off. You need to take care of yourself too.” He orders. “I saw you in the city yesterday. What were you doing?”

You scoot closer to him, pushing your sheets away as you slide to sit slightly behind him and to his right.

Excited, you can’t help but lean around to look at his face better. “I saw that you have the food we don’t eat here in the castle delivered to the poor and I thought…I’ve started a donation program with the churches and business in the city. People bring the food that they do not need or that is about to expire, and I have a few soldiers distribute it to the poor. The food will only last a day or two by the time they receive it but for some of them, it’s all they have.”

“Whose idea was that?” He looks over his shoulder at you, his exhaustion evident in his storm blue eyes.

“Mine.” Your brief excitement fades. He’s so tired. He looks so damn tired. “Have you not been sleeping?”

He ignores your question. “I’ll see what funds we have free so that those that help you get a small payout for their assistance.”

You hadn’t even thought of that. Of course, the good people letting you take donations at their places should get something in return.

“Thank you. You don’t mind my using a few of your soldiers to help me?” You almost whisper, heart soaring, butterflies in your stomach making your body hum.

“No. I don’t mind. They’re you’re soldiers too.”

This is the first time he’s included you in ownership of anything in the castle or kingdom. You feel like you could fly.

“I’m sorry that I snapped at you in the garden.” He says, remorse tainting his usually luscious deep tone.

You shake your head. “It’s alright. I shouldn’t have asked about Margaret.”

“I don’t know that I have the energy for you tonight.” He admits, sighing lightly and a startling thought occurs to you.

Does he consider it a chore? To sleep with you?

You don’t exactly find it fun either. It’s never felt like those girls back home said it would. Good? It just…you’re not even sure what to compare it to. Nothing you’ve ever felt before. Invasive a bit but you’re not unwilling.

Your heart however is full of disappointment that the few moments you get to have him all to yourself is nothing more than a task to be checked off his schedule.

“I’m at your leisure, your Majesty.” You can’t help the way you curl in on yourself again, feeling once more unwanted and out of place.

He scoffs a small laugh, there’s humor in it. “You make it sound like all I need you for is-”

He stops as he meets your eyes. His smile fades. There’s surprise in his eyes and you’re not sure what it means.

He swallows hard, blinking rapidly as he turns towards your fire and his fingers flex into a fist.

“Why aren’t you pregnant yet?” He suddenly asks, and you’re so startled by the question that you don’t know how to answer.

That tiny seedling of doubt and fear that has been growing in the depths of your soul for the six months that you and the king have been married…why haven’t you gotten pregnant yet? Every night for six months…something should have stuck. Is there something wrong with you?

Will he leave you if you can’t give him an heir? You’ll have to go back to father a failure. Will he then turn you out too? Everything depends on you holding up your end of the bargain.

“I don’t know. I’m-”

“Maggie was pregnant when she died. And we were only married three months.” His Majesty says, and although you know he doesn’t speak the words to hurt you…you feel like a failure. Once again, you don’t rise to the level at which Margaret was at. And, wait, she’d been pregnant when she passed?

So, his Majesty hadn’t lost one love of his life, but two?

“I’m trying.” You tell him, suddenly yearning to comfort him.

“If she could do it in less than three months, why can’t you? I only have six months left.” He tells you wiping way your compassion as fear takes its place once again.

What does he want you to do? What can you do? You’ve done what you should. You’ve been here for him. You’ve made no protest and you’ve made sure his seed is kept within you.

“Until you’re with child, you’re to stay here in the castle and keep yourself well. I’ll send for a doctor in the morning.” He gets up and moves to your door

“Yes, your Majesty.” You sigh, slide back into bed, and settle in for the night.

Strangely enough, you don’t hear your door close for a while. Almost as if his Majesty hadn’t left right away. What reason would he have to linger?

Your sleep is restless.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re depressed.” Nat says, Peter walking a few feet behind the two of you.

“I’m not.” You argue.

“She is.” Peter says.

“Hey!” You turn to look at him, throw him the book you’d brought down with you which he dodges easily then smiles as he turns and moves to pick it up.

You’re much better at reading now but you’re very slow. You try to keep a book with you at all times for practice.

“What’s wrong? Is it because Steve told you to stay in the castle?” Nat knows you too well.

“And because I’m still not pregnant.” You sigh. “The doctor said I was fine. So…why?”

“Maybe you’re both trying too hard? He’s got all the stress of the Kingdom on his shoulders, not to mention-”

Peter clears his throat.

“I’m not stupid, kid.” Nat tells him, frowning at him.

They exchange a significant look and you suddenly feel out of the loop.

“What, Nat?” You probe.

“And you’re not exactly stress free either. Since the moment you married Steve you’ve been on edge.”

That’s not what she was going to say. You narrow your eyes at her suspiciously. They’re keeping something from you. All of them.

This isn’t the first time something has seemed off. Sometimes you’ll catch Steve, Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Peter huddled together in the throne room or the library and when they see you they rush off in different directions.

What are they hiding?

“Maybe taking a break from trying is what’s best for both of you?” She nods.

“But it’s the only time I spend with him, except for Fridays in the throne room. And even then, he doesn’t look at me or speak to me. That time belongs to his people. If he would just…” You give up, defeated.

Stopping where you are, you turn to stare at Margaret’s pavilion and hate her just a little bit.

You shouldn’t. It’s wrong of you to hate her but you do. For a few moments, right now, you hate her for being here first. For winning his love so easily when you seem to struggle even for a shred of kindness.

He will never love you, but you still can’t give up. Something must make you this stupid. You should know by now that the King holds no regard for you whatsoever.

You’re a means to an end for him. His Queen in name alone. You are not the love of his life. You are to give him his heir and then you’re expected to slink into the background where he’ll never have to deal with you again.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Where is she?”

“She’s in her room.” Bucky informs him. “Not happy about it, but she’s safe. Natasha’s helping her pick something out for dinner.”

“Mm.” Steve nods.

“Is it wise to host this dinner tonight? All of those people? All of them watching the two of you. Most of them know you don’t love her, but they’ll be expecting to see a united front.” Bucky explains. “Can you give them that? Can you pretend for a night?”

“Am I wrong to ask her to stay in the castle?” Steve wonders, ignoring Bucky completely or maybe he just didn’t hear him?

“I don’t think so. But I think you’re wrong to order her to. You didn’t ask her, Steve. You and I both know that you told her to do it and gave her no room to argue.” Bucky shakes his head and Steve watches him with annoyance. “She’ll do anything you ask her to.”

Steve knows and hates that. He hates that you’re so compliant. He wants you to tell him no. To fight and argue with him. He feels like you’re not being yourself. As if he broke you that first night and since then you’ve cowered and given way to every one of his wishes and whims.

“Will you take a break? From sleeping with her?” Bucky wonders, keeping his voice quiet as he and Steve pace through the garden, the fading light of sunset burning with a soft orange glow as it paints the sky a pink blush.

“How can I? It’s been six months and she still isn’t pregnant. I need to get this done before the year is out.” Steve sighs, frustrated.

“You’re letting all of these outside issues affect both of you. Why can’t you just stop thinking about what you should or shouldn’t be doing and just…I don’t now…get to know her? Just be there for her. She’s already there for you. Would it kill you to focus on her for a change?”

“I am focusing on her.” Steve argues, and he really is but no one can see inside his head.

“Says the man in head-to-toe black. You didn’t even tell her what today was, did you?”

Steve hates it when Bucky knows him this well.

“It’s none of her business.”

“Horseshit.” Bucky spits. “There’s paying your respects, Steve and then there’s wallowing. You’ve been wallowing for three years now. When are you going to let yourself be happy?”

Steve stops, staring at the pavilion with it’s red daisies swaying in the evening breeze.

“She’d want you to be happy. If she could see you and the way you’ve been—what would she say?” Bucky asks, waiting as Steve stares at the place he’d first asked his first wife to marry him.

That had been the beginning of his life. Steve had chosen his Queen and they’d begun down a road that he would have braved fearlessly with her at his side. He’d been so ridiculously happy that he hadn’t anticipated a time when things would not be right.

Then she was taken from him and he was stuck in this world without her.

He thinks back to last night, your eyes cast down at your bed as the disappointment radiates off your womanly form.

“I’m at your leisure, your Majesty.” You’d said, as if you exist only for his amusement. To be used and discarded.

Steve couldn’t believe the look in your eyes, the clarity of your emotions on display by body language alone.

He’s made you feel small and unwanted. Which is ridiculous.

It’s not that he doesn’t want you. More and more you’re on his mind.

You’re in his thoughts when he wakes, but then Margaret is there, and he feels guilty.

You’re the best part of his day, when he gets to go see you in passing in the library while you’re busy with your studies or those moments he’s with you in front of his people.

As desperately as he’d tried to find something wrong with you, he’d failed. He does want you, but something happens between the moment that he walks into your room to make love to you and the act itself.

Something stops him from letting go and he can feel it in you, the stiffness with which you hold your body as he takes you, that you aren’t there with him.

Is that because of that first time? When he’d hurt you? Are you afraid of him?

Fuck.

You’re so smart despite the lack of education you received at that school Tony had sent you to. You’re compassionate and so damn kind. You’ve done more for the people of his kingdom than anyone else ever did. Your empathy is unparalleled, and he knows that you’re too good for him.

“Steve?” Bucky checks, as Steve hasn’t said anything for several minutes.

Steve sighs, knowing exactly what Maggie would have told him.

“She’d tell me to hold onto what I have. She’d tell me to see what I’d lose if I don’t start to appreciate Y/N for what she’s worth.”

He shakes his head.

“What?”

“I’ve never made her smile. Not once.” Steve admits.

“Margaret?” Bucky asks, confused.

He can remember Maggie laughing and smiling with Steve all the time.

“No. Not Maggie. Y/N.” As he turns to walk towards the gate, he reaches for a pale pink peony and gently cuts it from its stem. These flowers smell like you. They remind him of you, every time he sees them. “Do you think this will make her smile?”

He looks at his friend and as Bucky follows, he smiles at Steve, tilting his head to the right as he stares at the flower.

“I don’t know. But it’s a good place to start.”

Steve thinks so too.

[sebthesnipe]

A Very Patton Christmas

Other works by me (AO3)

Tumblr Master Post

To @gilby-the-geek-girl for being the best friend a person could ask for. For without whom my writing would be riddled with errors and inconsistency, and whose gift of friendship has been the greatest thing to happen to me in a very long time. While I know you’ve read this (cuz you beta for me like the boss bitch you are) I still hope that you know that it was written with love for you. (I really don’t have time to write for anyone else XP) One day I hope you’ll have a friend at least half as good as you are (because we both no I ain’t it XP) I hope your Hanukkah wasn’t a miserable one and that you Christmas is the highlight of your 2020 (because we both know there isn’t much competition).  Prompt: Explain why Patton’s Sweater this year is so damn ugly.

Patton shifted under the mountainous pile of blankets atop him. It was early, or rather… late? He hadn’t really slept. How could he?! His favorite day of the year was here! Well, it would be.

He shifted again, this time wiggling towards where he thought one of the blankets ended and poked his head out to look at his frog shaped Wisoee alarm clock. Its dim light smiled at him reading 3:37 AM.

He held back a squeal as he ducked back into this warm cave of comforters. He couldn’t watch the clock.

A watched pot never boils,he reminded himself.

He went over the day’s schedule in his head:

Logan would already be awake and emerge at precisely 4:00 AM, as he always did. Today though, was the only day out of the year the Logan broke his (otherwise) usual routine.

Logan would skip his usual jog, replacing his gray sweats for the pajamas Patton had bought him for his birthday (a blue plaid pair of pants and a grey tee  with the text ‘Wash your hands. Wear a mask. Vote.’ printed on the front) At which point, he would make his way to the kitchen where he would start a pot of coffee for himself, Virgil, and Janus.

That would be where Patton, came in!

Patton would already be in the kitchen to start his homemade hot chocolate for himself, Roman, and Remus (With Logan’s help of course. He didn’t want another incident like the baking fiasco from a few months ago).

By the time they finished, Roman would be up, no doubt singing everyone into wakefulness. Then it would be time for hot cocoa and presents!

Patton got them all Christmas sweaters just like he did every year! He loved picking them out for each of his friends and watching them all spread out in the living room, all snug and cozy to watch their usual Christmas movie marathon!

They always let Patton pick the first movie, but there were so many good ones he usually couldn’t choose! Logan would probably chime in with the Nutcracker, not because he was a fan but because it was the only Christmas movie Roman and Remus agreed on, making  it the popular choice.

Then it would be Logan’s actual turn. He usually chose The Polar Express. Patton was pretty sure he only chose it because there were really only two Christmas movies based on books and Janus always chose A Christmas Carol. That and because Patton really liked it!

Then came Janus and finally Virgil, who was Jewish and didn’t have personal stock in Christmas, but participated for the others (which was another reason he was Patton’s favorite ,not that he’d ever admit it). Virgil always wanted to watch Die Hard, but knew Patton didn’t care for the violence much, so he usually settled for Rudolf, which warmed the fatherly figure’s heart to no end (Which was probably why Patton had bought him the collector’s edition box set of the movie). During the previous year’s viewing of the movie Virgil and Logan ended up in a discussion regarding how the song Rudolf the Rednosed Reindeer was (according to Virgil) one of the only times a big corporation did what was right. Patton usually tried to follow this kind of discussion, but he usually got lost when Logan started in about percentages and underpaid artists. It just really hurt his little heart to know so many talented people out there were struggling.

The movies, as a matter of fact, were why Patton chose the sweaters he did for them this year! Each of his friends would be gifted a sweater to mirror each of their favorite Christmas movies! (Die Hard being the exception of course!)

After all that, the group would settle in for-

The alarm clock croaked loudly, signaling the arrival of 3:45 AM.

Patton’s previous thoughts evaporated into excitement as he attempted scramble from the mass of comforters, reaching to shut off the alarm.

His leg tangled in one of the large downeys and he hit the ground with a heavy thud. He paid no mind to his bruised ribs as he wrestled himself from its grasp, smacking the flashing frog to silence it.

A moment later he threw open his door, intent for the stairs.

He never made it though. At least, not at first…

Something was off.

He paused in the hallway, skin prickling at the coolness of the air.

He had only made it a few feet when he noticed it.

Roman’s door was ajar, the dark shadows of his messy room an indication of his absence…

Remus’ too. Though it was only slightly. Patton noticed the smell more than the sight.

Was everyone up before him?

He moved towards Virgil’s room, giving a soft knock before shouldering open the door.

“Hey, Kiddo. You up?” He whispered softly before noticing the unmade empty bed.

“And what would you know?!” the ‘kiddo’-in-question’s voice came in a harsh snap, drifting up from the living room.

“Keep your voice down!” Janus’ own snapped back, matching Virgil’s volume though the tone was a mock attempt at a whisper in his tone.

Patton inched closer, concern playing on his features as he flattened himself against the wall at the top of the stairs. He certainly didn’t want to intrude on his friends’ conversation, but there was obviously something was wrong.

“Bite me, snake boy!” Virgil snapped in return, though his voice was lowered.

“Don’t tempt me,” Janus hissed.

“Wait! Let me get the camera! Pics or it didn’t happen!” Remus’ voice came in a giddy giggle. “Okay, make sure you draw blood.”

“Gross,” Virgil huffed, heat gone.

“As much as I hate to admit it, Stormcloud, I think Ser Lies-a-lot is right,” Roman sighed softly. 

“You can’t be serious!” Virgil grumbled. 

“I believe he is,” Logan’s calm voice interrupted. “Statistically speaking, twenty three percent of christmas gifts in America in a given year are unwanted but kept.”

“That’s reassuring,” Virgil growled. 

“I wasn’t finished,” Logan retorted. “Given that statistic, along with the fact that individuals are more likely to gift items they like themselves, and factoring in the number of gifts we’ve received over the years. That paired with the fact that it was commissioned from an independent artist, supporting their work directly: I would say that there is a ninety-two point six five present chance that Patton will find the gift quite adequate.”

“Did you really just do all that in your head?” Janus asked curiously. 

“Actually, no,” Logan admitted. “I calculated the odds when the idea was brought up months ago, as I do with each of your christmas gifts.”

“Is that why I got socks last year?” Remus chirped. 

“Yes, well… I found that the other options would cause unease with the others,” Logan clarified.

“Boring!” 

“Don’t worry Remus, he didn’t get you a dissection kit this year to make up for it,” Janus commented sarcastically.

“What?!” Roman spat as Remus gasped excitedly. 

“I’m not even sure how you know that,” Logan sighed, probably straightening his glasses like he usually did when something annoyed him. “And I’m not sure I care to know.”

“We’re getting side tracked. He’ll be up any minute,” Virgil interrupted once more. “The fact is, it’s one of the ugliest things I’ve ever seen and it’s too late not to give it to him.”

“I like it!” Remus argued.

“See!” Virgil huffed, using Remus’ opinion as evidence to the validity of his statement. 

“Ugh, maybe he has a point Teach,” Roman agreed. “I could put together a card for us to sign instead?”

“No, it’s too late for that, beside I am certain this is all an overstated concern.” Logan countered.

“Perhaps, a vote wouldn’t be appropriate?” Janus offered. 

“I agree, all in favor of giving Patton the gift we already agreed upon?” Logan asked. 

There was silence as Patton assumed a few of the boys raised their hands. 

“All opposed?” He continued.

“Remus you can’t vote twice!” Roman snapped. 

“You’re no fun!” Remus whined. “I’ll stick with J-anus then!”

“Please, continue to call me that. I just love it,” Janus deadpanned. 

“The ayes have it then,” Logan decided. 

“What eyes?” Remus chirped excitedly, but no one paid him any mind. 

“Roman, if you would be so kind as to finish wrapping the gift, I have a pot of coffee to finish,” Logan dismissed.

“I have some extra ribbon in my room. Want to help, Stormcloud?” Roman asked, making Patton tense as they headed his way. 

He didn’t wait for V to answer as Patton hurried back to his room and closed the door softly behind him. 

He really shouldn’t have eavesdropped. 

Guilt filled him as he leaned against the frame, processing everything that had been said. 

The group had never agreed on a gift for Patton. Usually Logan and Roman were the only two to get him anything and they just included the others’ names on the presents (not that Patton ever called them out on it. Why would he?). Patton didn’t mind of course, he knew they had trouble buying for him.

Logan usually got him a new hoodie or something practical like a flamingo pen, or oven mitts (though those usually only lasted about a week before Patton caught them on fire or melted them!). Roman always made him something, like the card he had mentioned, and just had the others sign it. Patton didn’t mind of course, he loved everything they gave him. It was the thought that warmed him! Even the fact that Remus refrained from his usual off the wall habits to try and make Patton more comfortable meant the world to him.

The fact that the group was so torn over his opinion broke his heart. How could they think that? What had he done to put that doubt in their mind? He had to do better! Whatever it was, he would show he loved it more than anything they had ever gotten him before.

His brows furrowed in determination. 

This would be their year!

He took a moment to gather himself before plastering on a smile and throwing open the door once more, running straight into a surprised Logan. 

Logan gave a small grunt as Patton bumped him, the mug of hot cocoa sloshing over and onto his hand. 

“Oh goodness!” Patton gasped in shock, “I’m so sorry Lo’! Are you alright?” The smaller man hurriedly took the mug from his friend’s hand and set it on the small table next to the door, frantically searching for something to clean up the mess. 

“I’m fine, Patton,” Logan reassured, producing a blue handkerchief from his pant pocket and wiping the warm liquid off his hand. Leave it to Logan to have his handkerchief with him despite wearing pajamas. “I made sure the liquid was at an acceptable temperature for this exact reason.”

“Oh! I hope I didn’t ruin your new PJs!” Patton cried, already pushing Logan’s arms up to examine the flannel. 

There wasn’t a stain to be found. Logan arched a brow as he waited for Patton to satisfy his need for the inspection before sighing. 

“Truly, Patton, I’m fine. Are you?” Logan asked, his neutral expression turning to one of concern. 

“What?” Patton hummed, glancing up to meet the taller man’s eyes. “Of course! I wasn’t the one holding the cup!” 

“I wasn’t referring to the cocoa,” Logan pointed out, lowering his arms. “It’s 4:17. It isn’t like you to be so unpunctual on Christmas day.” 

“Oh…” Patton whispered, lowering his gaze in shame. Should he tell him? It wasn’t right to keep secrets. Would he be upset if he found out Patton had been eavesdropping? No… Today was their day… He wouldn’t do anything to upset them. “No. I’m fine!” Patton reassured, suddenly as chipper as ever as he offered out a smile. 

Logan eyed him suspiciously, but seemed to wearily accept the answer. 

“Well, I thought your traditional cup of cocoa would help if anything were amiss,” Logan nodded towards the cup, bringing Patton’s attention to it once more. 

Logan had made it without him? 

Patton could feel the mask around his heart start to crack a little as his stomach sank. He supposed it made sense that Logan wouldn’t really need him to make it… Still, that was Patton and Logan’s Christmas tradition… It hurt that he had been left out of it. 

“Aw! Thank you Logan!” Patton forced out in his preening voice as if nothing was wrong. 

This was their day, not his. 

“That’s so sweet!” He added, collecting the mug and taking a small sip. Somehow it didn’t taste as good as it usually did. 

“You’re very welcome, Patton,” Logan replied with a small tilt of his lips. 

His crooked smile also seemed to soften his features; Patton loved that about him. It made his sudden disappointment worth it. 

“I know we usually have a schedule for the holiday, but…” Logan paused as if he were nervous. What an odd look for the scholar. “Well, the others requested a change in plans.”

Patton’s heart sank. What kind of change? Did they not like the way they usually celebrated Christmas? Why hadn’t they told him? Was his idea of Christmas really so one sided? How had he not noticed this before? Was that why Logan was so nervous?

No… It didn’t matter. This was their day, not his.

“What kind of change, kiddo? I’m sure whatever it is will be great! It’s Christmas after all!” Patton responded, despite the way his stomach knotted. 

“Well,” Logan began, stepping aside. “Perhaps it would be best if they explained it.”

Patton hesitated before nodding taking the lead as they walked down the hall. What if they didn’t want to do hot cocoa and movies any more? What if they didn’t want to celebrate Christmas at all?! Was that why they came together for a gift? To appease Patton? They were all getting older and it wasn’t as if they had children. Maybe they felt like Christmas wasn’t for adults…

That was ridiculous, Patton knew that. But still…

He headed down the stairs, a smile still glued to his lips as he caught sight of Remus and Janus whispering over a small box. 

“I told you, it's for you!” Janus hissed at the mustached man next to him, fending him off the plain white box in his hands. 

“I helped pick them out! I should be allowed first dib-” Remus cut himself off as Janus elbowed him in the ribs pulling his attention up to Patton, just as he took the last step on the landing. 

“I didn’t lick them, I swear!” Remus called out, smiling broadly in his stained Oscar the Grouch onesie. “Okay maybe a few.”

Janus rolled his eyes, dressed in his usual suit and hat, not bothering with a comment. 

“Good Morning, Patton, slept horribly I hope?” Janus asked pleasantly. 

“Hey, kiddos. You’re up early,” Patton offered, feeling more uneasy than ever; something that must have shown because at that moment Logan leaned down to whisper in the smaller man’s ear. 

“Are you sure you are alright Patton?” he asked softly. “If you’re not feeling well then perhaps you should rest. I’m sure we can put this off unti-”

“Hola, Padre!” Roman’s voice came,  cutting off Logan’s words. 

Patton glanced up at the two figures standing at the top of the stairs. Roman, straight backed, hands behind him as he stood tall in his prince pajamas; Virgil behind him, using him to practically hide his small form, dressed in his Jack Skeleton onesie. 

“Roman, Virgil! You’re up already! This is a surprise!” Patton feigned excitement.

“Definitely a Christmas miracle,” Janus sighed. 

No one paid the comment any mind as Roman hurried down the stairs. Grin wide.

“Well this is a special day, Padre!” Roman explained as Virgil followed after, rolling his eyes. 

“Bah-Humbug,” the black and white clad man grumbled in response. Though it may have been Patton’s imagination, but Virgil's eyeshadow looked a few shades lighter than usual. 

“Feliz Navidad Patton! Merry Christmas!”Roman sang, producing the present from behind his back and offering it out. 

Patton’s heart skipped a beat, hesitating as he glanced around the room at each of his friends. They all looked so nervous… Even Janus. 

His attention went back to the gift being presented. It was a decent sized package with rainbow wrapping paper, black and white striped ribbon, and a green and blue bow that sat just above a small yellow tag that read ‘To: Janus From: Patton’.

Despite Patton’s dread and apprehension, he couldn’t help but smile at the packaging. They had even come together on the wrapping. It was very sweet. 

He glanced up at Roman who nodded eagerly, indicating that Patton was welcome to it. 

“You guys! You didn’t have to do all this!” He whispered in awe, voice cracking as tears began filling his eyes.

No matter what happened, Patton was awed by the fact that the boys went to so much trouble for him. They had come together for him. It didn’t matter if they were too old for Christmas!

He tugged at the ribbon, finding it firmly in place, before turning it over and trying again. After flipping it once more he heard Logan give a small chuckle. 

“May I?” his soft calm voice came. Patton nodded, handing over the package to Logan and wiping away a tear he felt rolling down his cheek. 

Logan’s nimble fingers loosened the bow and the surrounding ribbon, careful not to ruin them (he knew Patton loved to keep them and hang them above his mirror to admire later). Logan set the ribbon aside before handing the package back to the smaller man.

“Thank you,” Patton murmured weakly, gently tearing the wrapping to slide the sleek white box from inside. 

“This is worse than waiting for a magnet you swallowed to come out the other end!” Remus chimed in excitedly. 

“Ugh! Does he really have to be here?!” Roman whined, causing Patton’s grin to turn genuine.

The momentary distraction had him feeling a bit better as he slid a nail under the lid of the box, breaking the tape there and pulling open the lid. 

Wrapped loosely in a thin tissue paper lay a DVD copy of The Shop Around the Corner, a mug that, when you sip it, makes the drinker look like the bottom half of their face belongs to a puppy, and some kind of knitted fabric.

“Ah! You guys!!!” Patton squealed, tears beginning to fall as he collected the mug and movie, setting them aside and pulling out the sweater to get a better look at it. 

The light blue knitted midsection was covered in what, he assumed, was supposed to be some kind of icing pattern? Or perhaps whipped cream? Lace? He wasn’t sure. There was also a brown bow tie that was maybe supposed to be chocolate? Down the center was a line of pink chocolate chip cookie buttons. The bright pink sleeves had much of the same design though instead of pink cookies they were light blue.

It may have been the ugliest excuse of a sweater Patton had ever seen.

Silence fell in the rooms everyone waited for Patton’s reaction. 

“We know it’s not as good as the ones you get us,” Virgil chimed in nervously. “But we thought that maybe you’d like one of your own?” 

“The mug, of course, is so you won’t have to make so many trips for more cocoa,” Logan added with a soft smile. “I thought the others would like to help us make the rest after you change, of course. If you’d like.”

“The rest?” Patton asked, breath hitching as the tears threatened to fall. “You mean… You didn’t make it without me?” He sniffled.

“What?” Logan blinked in surprise. “Of course not, Patton. Making hot chocolate for everyone is a tradition I enjoy spending with you. I would never-”

“Well, it's just… you brought the mug up… So, I thought…” Patton let his voice fade as he watched understanding flash over Logan’s features.

“I was worried there might be something wrong. I thought waking you with your own mug would be a nice surprise.” Logan explained. “I apologize if I gave the wrong impression, Patton. I only made the one mug. I know you find a great deal of happiness in our customary time in the kitchen. I would not want to take that from you.”

“But…” Patton murmured, eyes shifting to the others. “Everyone’s already awake… And you were all together… I don’t want to impose on-”

“¡Espera! ¡Espéra! ¡Espéra!” Roman interrupted, looking both surprised and concerned. “I did not wake up far before my beauty rest was done to hear this slander especially from Mr. Spirit of Christmas, himself! Patton, with you there is no Christmas.”

“Roman is right, Patton,” Virgil shrugged, shrinking a bit lower into his hood. “I certainly wouldn’t be celebrating and we definitely wouldn’t have come together to get you the gifts. 

“I know Shop Around the Corner isn’t usually on our Christmas Merry Marathon list, but you never really get to pick a movie and I know it’s your favorite,” Roman pitched in. “At least, that's what Janus claims.”

“I totally didn’t check your browsing history,” Janus shrugged.

“And I edited the email to the artist!” Remus added proudly.

“That… explains a lot,” Logan whispered under his breath softly.

“We also didn’t bring you cookies from that bakery you hate.” Janus stated, setting the box he had been holding down on the small table next to him. 

Patton was silent throughout the exchange, burying his face into the soft fabric as he began to shake silently with his sobs. 

“I told you he wouldn’t like it!” Virgil cried desperately.

“No!” Patton responded, voice breaking. “I love it! I love all of it!” He dropped his hands just enough to rush forward, wrapping both Virgil and Roman into a great big hug. “Thank you so much! It’s perfect!” 

Roman gave a boisterous laugh, returning the hug as Virgil couldn’t help but smile; both grunting as Remus piled atop them. 

Logan approached, resting a hand on Patton’s shoulders in reassurance. 

“Well, this is certainly a disgusting sight,” Janus sighed, though he was grinning as well. 

“I love you guys so much!” Patton laughed, the weight on his heart lifting to the point of forgetfulness. How could he have ever thought these men didn’t need him or wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with him. They were his family!

“Is it just me or is this oddly arousing?” Remus purred.

“Ugh!” Roman and Virgil both scoffed at once, shoving the rank smelling man away from them. 

“Why do you have to ruin everything?!” Roman growled, dragging his brother away.

Patton didn’t mind the outburst, however, far too busy hurrying up the stairs to change so they could get their Best Christmas EVER underway…

The End...

[notaburgler]

A fic I wrote for a friend for Christmas. Just a little Dadzawa... (Pardon any spelling or grammar errors)

A twinkling above head and a rough pass of freezing wind jolted Eraserhead from his trance. The winter months made patrol so much less enjoyable for the hero. He tried to bundle up the best he could, but couldn’t pack on too many jackets or sweaters and remain limber at the same time. He was in luck; his capture weapon helped keep the icy fingers of Mother Nature from grazing his neck and sending shivers up and down his entire body. 

Eraserhead hated the cold. What’s worse was his roommate, none other than the voice hero Present Mic, kept the windows open and a fan on leaving the house terribly cold all day and night. His sleeping bag was never enough. He layered blanket after blanket and cranked the heat to 100. Trying hard to beat this winter, he would curl up in bed after a long shift; but that cozy thought was still hours away. 

No, villains didn’t fall silent due to weather. They didn’t close up shop or hibernate. If anything, the colder the night, the more dangerous it got. Hero’s movements were sluggish and left them less than efficient due to shivering and tingling, frozen fingers.

With his hands tucked in his pockets, he walked the streets in a particularly dangerous part of town hoping if he were to catch a villain in the act, the physical activity of fighting would help warm his body up, if only for a short while. 

His fingers tingled and his nose red, the clocks second hand finally marched to the 12 at the top of his watch signaling the end of his shift. The next hero would jump from a rooftop or rush around the corner any second to greet and relieve him. So, he waited. He waited and waited. He was sure he was at the agreed upon meeting spot. Maybe he took a wrong turn?

A light, gentle buzz came from his pocket. He lifted his phone and sighed at the text shining into his tired, bloodshot eyes.

“I won’t be able to make it tonight. Sorry.”

It wasn’t really what he wanted to see. Be late. Be lazy. Be in the wrong location or lost. Don’t bail! Now Eraserhead was stuck working the next shift. And with class the next day, he would be in no mood for anyone’s sass.

The class was rowdy. Aizawa already had a headache, and the events that unfolded during his second shift on patrol didn’t help. There wasn’t anything in particular that happened; just a few evil doers that thought it would be fun to make him stay even longer than he wanted and a store clerk that couldn’t exactly pinpoint the details of the person that robbed him. Sometimes, Aizawa really disliked people. 

“Calm down.” His voice was as usual, deadpan and almost monotone. It was how he presented himself that seemed off to the rest.

Midoriya, the observationalist he is, pointed it out first. Aizawa disregarded the claim that he seemed more tired and cranky. 

Cranky, huh? He guessed that would be a good word to use to describe his current mood.

It was a bit of a childish word, but who was Aizawa to argue? That’s exactly what it was. He needed a nap that lasted the duration of his 30’s and a nice fluffy bed to cuddle up in while he slept. Was that too much to ask?

He’d been working himself to the bone: teaching class, patrol, meetings, grading homework. Not to mention those kids wouldn’t stop drawing the League of Villains attention. He was on guard at all times. Having another student badly hurt or kidnapped would only make his bad day worse.

He caught himself watching the clock as Mic took to the center of the room. He should have been spending that time grading papers and going over the curriculum. Lunch would start soon and this would be his chance to at least nap for a moment. Why he wasn’t using Mic’s presence to nap, He wasn’t sure. He felt the urge to sleep, but once he curled up in his sleeping bag and closed his eyes, the undeniable feeling of dread sunk into him and forced his stinging and tired eyes open. 

He sat up and watched the class silently jotting down notes. At least they paid attention when Mic was teaching. So many times had his class become unruly to the point of him having to threaten harm (albeit faux harm). He’d activate his quirk, drying his eyes even more, and pull his scarf from his neck. With a menacing glare they would calm down and he would resume class. 

He jumped slightly. A motion he hoped had gone unnoticed by his class when the bell rang signaling it was lunch time. 

With a sigh, he slouched at his desk, Present Mic staying behind to check in. 

“Rough day?” His gloved hand pressed against Aizawa’s shoulder in a comforting manor. 

Aizawa sighed again, letting his eyes fall closed, “Yeah ... rough Day? Night? I don’t even know anymore.” He opened his eyes once more and glanced up at his best friend.

His smile was almost annoying. He hadn't patrolled in weeks and his homework assignments were easy to grade. Yeah, he worked at the radio station and was up early for his show, but it was only a few hours and at least he enjoyed it. Aizawa, at this point, wasn’t even sure he liked what he did. Hero work was one thing, but teaching? Who would want to be a glorified babysitter all day?

Mic huffed gently seeing maybe now wasn’t the best time for Aizawa to have company, “Well, take care of yourself.” He dropped his usual persona; Calling everyone listener, even when they were right in front of his face.

****

“Mr. Aizawa seemed off today.” Uraraka stated with concern in her soft eyes. 

“Maybe one of his cats rejected him and he doesn’t know how to handle it?” Kaminari, always coming up with the weirdest of reasons behind people’s actions. 

The group of students headed down the hall to the dining area as they spoke. None of them felt quite right about his demeanor. He was normally calm and tired eyed. He’d take every chance to sleep that he could. Some students and staff had found him in the most precarious locations: janitors closets, the rooftop, on the sports field, under tables, the bathroom stalls. But today he was showing signs of sleep deprivation they hadn’t seen yet.  

Bakugo huffed, “People can have bad days. I have them.” He slammed to the table.

Kirishima, the sunshine boy of the class smiled smacking him on the back a little rougher than normal, “everyday is a bad day for you.”

“Shut up asshole!”

Uraraka spotted Midoriya talking to himself again. This wasn’t the first time. He had an unusual talent to absorb information like a sponge and made notes of it all in his handy dandy notebook always in his bag. He also had the uncanny ability to creep people out with that same information, not to mention the delivery. 

“Deku?” She asked with a tilted head that made her hair lightly bounce.

He shook himself, nervously falling backwards and onto the floor. 

As he stumbled to his feet he smiled, “sorry, just going over details I can remember about Mr. Aizawa.” He scratched his head. “He’s smart and logical. So there’s a reason he’s kinda in a sour mood, right?”

****

He should have napped. He needed to nap, but he was so used to lack of sleep at this point that napping was a bandaid on a broken leg. He had transcended into a state of eternal consciousness. Even with closed eyes and a yawn, he would never be able to fall asleep at the school like normal. He needed his bed and his blankets and the soft hum of the street lamps outside. He needed that white noise machine Mic had bought him last year for Christmas to be able to tune out all other thoughts and just sleep. But he also needed to eat; a fact announced unintentionally when his stomach screamed from it's emptiness. 

At least the teachers lounge was quiet. Most of them would indulge in Lunch Rushes food, and for good reason. The lounge was quiet, just what he needed. He had a free period after lunch- more time to wind down and stop snapping at the students. The questions were valid and the reactions were to be expected. All morning they had been unusually attentive and calm, and all he had been is a real jerk. He spent the better part of second period explaining to them that he wasn’t their parent and he shouldn’t have to teach them respect and manners all because Ojiro let out a small burp that made the class erupt into laughter.

It was an odd mood he felt so purely. He hadn’t been this irritable and moody since high school, and even then, it wasn't nearly as bad as it is now.

Yeah, he didn’t get sleep. Yeah, he was hungry. Yeah, he was irritated that the pro that was supposed to relieve him last night bailed. All of these things would put someone, anyone into a foul mood. Not even All Might, Mr. happy-go-lucky, wasn’t immune to bad days and poor attitudes. 

Aizawa brushed off his mood as a fit of hanger and ate in silence. 

As he felt like a calm had washed over him, the chatter of students in the halls just past the frosted glass window on the door brought back his irritation. 

Maybe he should have called in today? Maybe he should have taken the day to just stay at home and catch up on sleep? Maybe he should have called another hero last night to take over? Or maybe just bail altogether and hope for the best? It’s not like anything happened that couldn’t have been dealt with later or by the cops.

His lunch ended, meaning his free period was over. At least he got a little time to reflect on his recent actions and words. Calling Midoriya annoying and telling Bakugo he will never be a hero with such a poor attitude (in retrospect, he wasn’t one to talk) was maybe a bit harsh. All Might was with his class, so he hoped to have them calm and listening for the rest of the day. Maybe an apology was due? Maybe he’d let them slack off for a bit? He wasn’t sure, but he’d make the decision once he got to the classroom.

He slid the door open staring at the floor. His eyes a mere slit against the rough features of his face. It figures, now is when he would be able to pass out right on the floor and sleep for days. At least he’d be in the classroom when he woke and wouldn’t need to get dressed in the morning. 

His eyes lifted and his hand reached for the back of his head with a nervous rub of his neck. Yeah, an apology was due. “Hey class-“

“THANK YOU MR. AIZAWA!”

He glanced around at the room. 

Balloons and streamers strung throughout. A cake big enough for an army to eat— with leftovers to spare. Each student wearing a shirt with his creepy smiling face on it. 

“What’s going on?” He tried to hide his excitement. 

All Might blew his cheap plastic kazoo right in Aizawa's face, “the students wanted to let you know how much they appreciate you. So they spent lunch putting together a party.”

He glanced around the room at all of the smiling faces. 

“Eri,” Midoriya nudge her out in front, “go.” He quietly urged her.

She looked to Mirio for confirmation, and after his nod, she pressed forward with a box in hand, “thank you Aizawa.” 

She was adorable. Unable to maintain eye contact, but fighting her nerves and fears to present the man that had been caring for her with his gift.

His first smile of the day was the most genuine smile he had worn in ages. “Why couldn’t we get a picture of that smile instead of the creepy one that looks like he’s about to put an axe through the door?” Kaminari whispered to Jiro.

A new pair of pink sweatpants was just what he needed. Present Mic had adamantly begged the students to get him something other than the dreadful pink sweatpants, but after hearing of how much he loved them, they had to buy them. His smile grew even more sincere as he unfolded them to see them better. A large cut out of what looked like a cat was poorly sewn into the butt of it.

“Eri drew and cut the cat, Midnight helped sew it on.” Mirio smiled with a thumbs up.

The anger. The irritation. The bad mood. All of it wiped clean and replaced with a warm and tender feeling buzzing inside. He felt whole in this class. He felt important. He felt happy. 

“Thank you class.” He blinked hiding the small trail the tear had left along his cheek.

Shouta Aizawa may not be their parent. He may not be their real family. But this classroom, and these students, are the only family he really needs. 

He whispered, a voice gone unnoticed, even by Jiro, “Thank you so much class. I love being your teacher.” 

[callboxkat]

A Little Nightmare (part 5)

Author’s note: Somebody predicted what was going to happen at the start of this part. You know who you are. This was already planned, I swear! XD 

Anyway, thank you to everyone for your patience! I hope this part is worth the wait.

As always, reblogs are very much appreciated!

Warnings: fear, paranoia, some passive aggression, injuries, death mention, drowning mention, hypothermia mention, lying, censored swearing, food mention, and a dog

Word Count: 3855

Infinitesimal Masterpost!

...

Remy slowly shuffled across the floor once she was sure Joan was gone. She kept her eyes on the door, still wary of the human making a reappearance while she was out in the open. Getting stepped on wasn’t exactly part of her plans, even if at this point it wouldn’t be all that surprising, given how well her life had been going as of late.

Did she really want to stay, she considered, here with the human? Here in their house?

Remy hadn’t been able to find any signs that they were lying to her about anything. Joan had seemed completely genuine so far, explaining their actions in a way that made sense, and hadn’t done anything obviously malicious so far. Yes, they had basically kidnapped her; yes, they had hurt her; and, yes, they had undressed her (gross). But she had just almost drowned, and all of those things did make sense with their story that they’d tried to help her. Joan had apparently saved her, dried her off and warmed her up, and had given her food and water. It didn’t match up at all with how Remy would have expected an encounter with a human to go; and she wasn’t dumb enough to just go along with that without a second thought; but even as she looked for signs of dishonesty, she couldn’t smell any bullsh*t.

While Joan was away doing whatever humans did, and once she’d felt up to it, Remy had gone exploring. She’d wanted to check out the room where she was supposed to stay for the next day-and-a-half, to make sure there weren’t any nasty surprises waiting for her. There were only so many places she could look, her mobility limited as it was and with less time than she might have preferred; but, still, it was reassuring that she hadn’t found any red flags. No dark secrets in the closet. No traps waiting to snap her up. No secret collection of little-sized torture devices.

She did have to concede that a human would probably not have kept her in a room where she was likely to find any secrets like that. All the same, the fact remained that she was still alive, not drowned in a freaking bucket (what an embarrassing way to die, by the way); she wasn’t in a cage; and it seemed that the human hadn’t told anyone else about her. Those were all good signs.

She still wanted to do some more exploring of this room, later, assuming she stayed long enough. And she wasn’t completely sold on trusting Joan. But she was very tired, and her options were limited, and the blanket by the heating vent was calling her name in a siren song. So she decided to shelve her plans for later, shuffled her way back over to the blanket, and lay down on the soft fabric. She was asleep between one breath and the next.

…

“You’re back.”

The soft, stunned words prompted Remy to crack open one eye. She turned her head slightly and looked up to see the human, who stood just within the doorway to the room, watching her with their mouth agape. They were holding the baggie of peas that they had rudely neglected to leave behind the last time they barged in.

Remy was silent for a long moment.

“Back?” she echoed at last, frowning up at them. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes with one hand.

“You—you weren’t here. Where were you?” Joan took a step forward.

“…Yes I was,” Remy said slowly, a bewildered expression crossing her face. “I’ve been right here this whole time, girl; I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Joan opened their mouth and shut it again. They looked like they wanted to argue; but mostly, they just looked massively confused. “No,” they said more quietly. “I came in here before, and you weren’t here. I looked in the blanket and everything.”

Remy blinked up at them, feigning ignorance.

Joan sighed through their nose, and shook their shoulders minutely, apparently deciding to drop the topic. Probably because, regardless of whatever her earlier whereabouts might or might not have been, Remy was there now.

“I brought this,” they said, holding up the baggie of frozen peas. “I, um, I realized I didn’t leave it earlier. So I thought I’d bring it, in case you came back… which I guess you did.” They laughed awkwardly. “Or—you didn’t leave. Apparently.” They slowly walked closer, then set the baggie on the ground and nudged it the rest of the way to her side. Remy waited for them to draw back before she reached for it, grumbling when she had to uncurl from her nest to snatch it.

“Anyway. Um. I’m going to bed soon. Do you need anything else tonight?”

Remy pulled the baggie up and let it rest on her chest, sighing softly. “Nah,” she mumbled.

Joan nodded and made as if to leave, then paused. They sighed, rubbing the back of their head. “Look,” they said, avoiding eye contact, “I know you don’t want to be here. And I know you might have some reservations about our deal. But I promise, I promise, I will hold up my end. Just, please, don’t go disappearing on me.”

Remy shifted, not looking at them.

“Honestly, if you’re not going to stay the two days, I’d really rather you just told me,” Joan continued. “I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be upset, but I won’t be mad. The thing is, I know you don’t know how to get home from where we are, and the last thing I want is for you to get lost and probably hurt because of that. So if you're going to ditch me, please tell me, so I can make sure you actually make it home.”

Remy frowned and looked up at them, squinting. “Wait, what?”

“What?” Joan echoed.

“Like… If you’ll take me back right now, why the heck would I stay for the rest of your dumb deal? What’s my motivation? Where’s your, like, leverage or whatever?”

“I mean, I guess your motivation would be, like… not dying? That seems pretty motivating to me. But leverage?” Joan looked up, staring towards a wall for a second or two. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t have any.”

Remy wanted to call them out on what garbage that statement was, to point out that she truly only had any say here until Joan decided to take it away; but Joan had such a genuinely defeated look on their face, like they actually felt that they felt they had no power over what she did. Remy pursed her lips, watching them, but there was nothing disingenuous in their expression or tone of voice. She was inclined to believe them.

They looked back at her. “Will you still be here in the morning?” they asked, their voice soft with uncertainty.

There was a long pause in which Remy glanced around the room, thinking.

“I’ll be here,” she reluctantly promised. She wasn’t a morning person, anyway. Bonus, maybe she could needle some coffee out of Joan, assuming the human had some. They seemed to really want her to like them, and she wasn’t above that sort of manipulation.

Joan looked surprised. “You will?”

“Girl, learn how to take a ‘yes’.”

The corner of Joan’s mouth quirked up. “Okay, cool. See you tomorrow, then.”

Remy hummed, closing her eyes. She heard them getting to their feet and walking to the door. The light flicked off, and then the door closed behind them. She was left in semi-darkness, the only light coming in from under the door.

She could have run. But she just adjusted the bag of frozen peas to cover her sore hip as well as her chest, and she closed her eyes.

This wasn’t so bad, she thought, despite how absolutely garbage her day—no, her entire week—had been. She was cozied up in a warm blanket, she’d been given food and water, and she had a big bag of ice numbing her bruises. She had to admit that none of that made her want to take off running and never look back.

Except… there was one huge factor she still had to take into consideration, one fact that marred what otherwise might have been an almost pleasant experience: the dog.

It was true that Remy hadn’t seen him once, and Joan seemed to be genuinely trying to keep them separated, but Remy couldn’t help but worry. Sure, he wouldn’t be a problem, so long as Joan was careful to keep him away from her. And as long as they did, presumably, she’d be safe. But that could change very fast. All it would take was one underestimation of the dog, one lapse of judgement, one single second. She’d be lying if she said that didn’t scare her.

…

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Remy opened her eyes. She turned her head, watching the sliver of yellowish light coming in at the base of the door.

There was a snuffling noise following the bottom of the door, the shadow moving along with it, then a soft thump.

Remy held her breath. Was the dog loose? Remy had thought that the human was keeping it locked up in their room. Why had they let it out?

Although, now that she thought about it, had the human actually promised to keep the dog in their room? Or just out of the room Remy was in?

“Marco,” a voice called, muffled with distance and the walls separating them. “Get away from there. Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

The noise faded away as the dog trotted back down the hall. The light flicked off outside, and she heard a door close. They were gone. Remy slowly released her breath. She knew that the dog couldn’t open the door—the knob was almost certainly out of the animal’s reach—but she couldn’t help how it made her nervous. Animals’ reactions to littles could be hard to predict. Some of them were completely safe to be around, as long as you used common sense. Others, well… you get the idea. Even the friendly ones could be dangerous, if they got careless or overexcited.

Remy wasn’t sure how to feel about the mutt. Marco. She felt uneasy that he had been able to get so close to her, even if they were still separated by the closed door. At least he was gone, now.

Still, if Remy really was going to stay longer—even if only for the morning—she wanted to have a talk with the human. She’d like to at least have some warning if the dog was going to be wandering around right outside her door. Although, she’d definitely prefer if that didn’t happen at all. The unseen threat made her undeniably nervous, despite their separation. And the human wanted to be on her good side, right? So they would listen to her. She hoped.

…

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Remy bolted upright fast enough to make herself dizzy, the bag of peas sliding off of her chest. She pushed it away, staring at the crack under the door and blinking away spots. It was dark, but she swore she could see something there, shifting, a shadow in the hall.

She watched for a long moment, but she couldn’t hear anything. Had she imagined it? Those claws on the hardwood, drawing closer? The movement beyond the door?

She waited for several long moments, straining her ears; but she heard nothing. Slowly, slowly, she lay back down. She’d imagined the whole thing. At least she hadn’t aggravated her bruises too much, since they were mostly numb from the ice.

Just go to sleep, dummy, she told herself, trying to relax. There’s no dog. You’re just imagining things because you’re tired.

She closed her eyes, but sleep still didn’t come.

…

An exhale of hot breath, right in her face.

Startled out of her attempt to sleep, Remy let out a tiny shriek and scrambled backwards, her eyes wide. She stared around into the dark, gasping.

The room was empty. The blinds were shut over the window, and the closet and bedroom doors were shut. She was alone. No dog or any other predator in sight

As her heart rate gradually returned to a more normal pace, it dawned on her that the heater had turned off at some point. All she had felt was it coming back on.

Ugh, now you’re just being paranoid, and it is not a good look on you.

She eased herself back down into the blankets, wincing at the throb of her bruised chest. Perhaps it would have been best to put the bag of frozen peas back over them, even if it was probably mostly thawed by now, but the thought of that weight lying over her seemed stifling at that moment.

She gazed up at the ceiling, just breathing, or trying to; but she was unable to get the image of the dog, the one she knew was just in the neighboring room, out of her head. The huge, hulking form, the drool dripping from its jowls, the large clawed paws that could squash her flat, the hungry eyes. She could picture it all, far too clearly.

She knew she was overreacting. She knew all of this paranoia was just because of how helpless she felt, stuck with a human. It wasn’t as if she had never been near a dog before. But since when did fear listen to reason?

Sleep took a long time to come to her, but eventually, Remy succumbed to her exhaustion.

…

Joan woke up the next morning to a dog in their face. Marco’s hot, smelly breath made them pull away with a grossed-out noise. The dog often wanted to sleep in the same bed as Joan, and Joan always had to lift him up because he was too short to get up himself. So, currently, he was curled up right in front of Joan, still fast asleep, his little paws sticking up in the air.

Joan shook their head fondly and reached for their phone to check the time, then froze, remembering what had happened the day before. They blinked, their gaze flicking to the wall their bedroom shared with the guest room.

Had all of that actually happened? Or had it just been a weird dream?

Probably a dream. It had to be. It couldn’t possibly have been real.

Right?

They had to check.

Careful not to disturb their dog, they pushed back the blankets and got out of bed. Barefoot, they padded out to the hall, shutting the door behind them in case Marco woke up and tried to follow, and went down to the guest room. They hesitated a moment, then silently turned the door knob and pushed the door open with their fingertips.

They could see the blanket from where they stood, lying folded on the floor about six inches away from the air vent at the base of the wall. They couldn’t see anything within the folds of the dark blue fabric at this distance; so they cautiously drew nearer; and there she was: the impossibly small girl who perfectly resembled the borrowers they’d grown up reading about, except for her mouse-like tail. The girl they’d saved from drowning or dying of hypothermia by just happening to be in the right place at the right time. The girl they knew only as “Nunya Business,” an obvious pseudonym. The girl whose existence shouldn’t have been possible.

She was very much real, as it turned out. Of course, this was assuming that Joan wasn’t still asleep, or somehow hallucinating; but as unbelievable as it was, they were sure. The girl was real. At that moment, she appeared to be dead to the world, mouth slightly ajar, snoring quietly. The bag of peas they’d left the night before was lying next to her on the blanket, long since thawed.

Joan reached down and retrieved the little bag, intending to put it back in the freezer. The girl didn’t even stir. Joan stood there for a moment, watching her impossibly tiny form, before they retreated to the hallway and shut the door without waking her.

…

“Okay, shh, good boy,” Joan murmured, opening the door to their first-floor apartment. They winced at the jangle of tags, the tapping of excited paws on the floor. “Shh, shh, stay quiet.”

Marco, the ball of orange and white fluff at their feet, wagged his tail before squeezing through the partially-open door. Joan followed after, then stooped to unclip the leash from the dog’s collar. They set that down on the counter, then scooped up their dog. He put his paws on Joan’s shoulders and pressed his wet nose against their neck. His tail wagged harder as Joan scratched at his back.

Joan smiled. “Okay, Marcaroni, let’s go to my room,” they murmured, already carrying the dog there. They set him down on his dog bed, then moved towards the door, beginning to close it. “Be right back.”

They still had their hand on the doorknob as they looked down the hall, towards the other bedroom.

About an hour had passed since they’d gone to check on their guest that morning. They debated poking their head in again, just for a second, but eventually turned away and headed towards the kitchen. They’d go back to look in on her when breakfast was ready.

…

Remy jolted awake, and immediately groaned at the throb of pain this caused.

It took her a moment to remember where she was and why she was there. When she did, she wasn’t exactly happy. Who could blame her, really? This sucked.

At least she didn’t seem to have been eaten by a dog overnight, so that was nice.

She was still in Joan’s guest room, lying on top of a blanket, alone. Her chest felt like it had been hit with a battering ram, and she had a killer headache. And she was still stuck here with a human and their dog. So, in short, everything was great. So, so great.

Remy pushed herself to sit more upright and look around. Light filtered in through the gaps in the blinds over the window, and she could hear movement elsewhere in the building. The baggie of peas was missing, she couldn’t help but notice. So Joan had been here at some point.

She groaned again and let herself fall back against the blanket.

She didn’t have long to dwell on her sucky situation before she heard the door quietly opening, and she quickly scrambled to sit up, stiffening.

Joan stood there, of course. They gave her an awkward, lopsided smile when they saw her.

“Hey, you’re awake,” they commented.

Remy didn’t dignify that obvious comment with a response.

They stepped closer, and Remy saw that they held a small plate and the bag of peas. They left the door open behind them, and she couldn’t help how her gaze flicked between them and the hall, wary of the dog running in.

“I brought you some food,” they offered. “And more ice, if you want it?”

Remy stayed put as they came closer and put the plate and ice at her side. The plate held some crackers, peanuts, and strawberries. Once Joan moved away, she picked up one of the strawberries on the plate and took a few bites, staring at the human contemplatively.

“Where’s the dog?” she asked, swallowing. She set the strawberry back on the plate.

“Hm? Oh, Marco’s still in my room,” Joan said. “He’ll be fine in there.”

“He wasn’t in there last night,” Remy pointed out, folding her arms despite how her chest complained. “That mutt kept me up half the night.”

“What? Yes he—oh. Yeah, I let him out for about five minutes, just for some water. But it was only like five minutes. He spent the night with me.”

 Remy frowned. “He tried to get in here!”

Joan paused, then winced. “I’m sorry, he got past me when I was cleaning out his bowl. I’m sorry if he scared you. He must’ve smelled you and got curious. He wouldn’t hurt you or anything.”

“Oh, if you say so, it must be true,” Remy said in a bitter voice. She wiped her hands off on her pants, then started combing her tangled hair with her fingers, working out the hair tie as she did. “I’m sure I’ll have an amazing time staying here with him breathing curiously down my neck and trying to curiously eat me. But it’ll be fine, he’s just curious.”

Joan looked dismayed. “Hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Really. I should have realized.”

Remy looked up at them, then pointedly away, still combing through her hair. She hit a particularly stubborn knot and yanked her fingers through it about as passive-aggressively as a five-inch tall girl who’d almost died the day before was capable of.

The human shifted on their feet. “Can I… I don’t know, like, make it up to you somehow? It’s not like I can get rid of him—he’s my dog—and I can’t really keep him cooped up all the time, but I really want you to be comfortable here.”

“A little warning would be nice, to start,” Remy snipped. “If he’s going to be up in my business, I’d like to know. I don’t want to wake up in his mouth.”

Joan looked like they wanted to argue about the probability of that, but in the end they simply nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’ll tell you if he’s coming out of my room. But what if you’re asleep or something?”

“What did I just say? You do it anyway!” Remy wasn’t in the mood to coddle a human, of all things. Her headache and ribs were not playing nice, and she was still exhausted. Not. In. The. Mood.

The human sighed and pressed a hand briefly against their face. “Right. Yeah. Sure.”

Remy coughed, winced, and rubbed at her eyes.

“How are you doing today?” Joan ventured after a pause. Judging by the tone of their voice, they’d guessed she wasn’t feeling well.

“You know how you can make it up to me?” Remy said. “Get me some coffee. The good kind.” She didn’t know what humans considered the good kind, but she knew that not all coffee was brewed equal.

“Coffee?” Joan repeated, clearly surprised. “You want coffee?”

“Yes, girl, coffee. The good kind.”

“Oh. Um, sure, I think I have some in the cabinet. Do you… um, do you want, like, sugar in it? Or milk? I only have almond milk, though, if that’s okay.”

Remy hesitated, honestly a bit thrown by the question. She didn’t usually have options for how she had her coffee.

“…How about I just bring everything, and you can see what you like?”

Remy glanced them up and down before nodding.

With that, Joan left to fetch the apology coffee; and Remy went back to picking at her strawberry.